East of the Alter
by Anyanka
Summary: look alive!***CH ~7~ UP!!!!***A Circle of Magic fic. Sixteen year old Tris is encountering some difficult changes that will alter her life in unfathomable ways. T/B PLEASE R
1. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER: Do I own CoM?  Yes, yes I do.  I just ****_let Tamora Pierce _****_pretend to own it, because I'm nice like that._**

Hey everyone.  The Circle of Magic Quartet is a guilty little pleasure of mine, and seeing as how my mind has been constantly wandering back to those books in the last couple of days, I've decided to write a fanfiction story about them.  Yea.  I am a HUGE Tris shipper.  She is the ultimate.  Period.  And B/T rocks. Which I hope this ultimately will become.  

**READER NOTE: Everything that you've read in The Circle Opens series, forget it.  In this world, none of that stuff has happened.**

**FOR THE LOVE OF THE DEITIES OF THIS WORLD AND THE NEXT, **

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!**

With that out of the way, here we go.

**EAST of the ALTER**

by Anyanka

_"Break, break, break_

_At the foot of thy stones, O Sea!_

_And I would that I could utter_

_The thoughts that arise in me!"_

_                                                Aleister Crowley_

A storm was coming in.  The dark swirls of gray and white cloud danced around in the wind, hitting and combining with each other to form larger tendrils of what would be spectacular storm clouds.  _It's like a dance , Tris thought to herself, her chubby hand supporting her head as she gazed out of her window.  _

Trisana Chandler had seen many storms during her sixteen years in this life, but they never failed to fascinate her.  Her friends, Sandry, Briar and Daja, assumed that the curly-haired red head loved watching storms get born because of her magic, her ability to control weather to  by her mere whim.  Tris used to think that also, but as she watched the graceful movements of the clouds, she realized that she would watch storms  even if she had no magic at all.  

Up there, where the clouds were, everything was free.  

_No worrying about controlling your magic, wondering if people think you are too fat, no nothing.  You're absolutely free.  She sighed and closed her eyes, sending herself out on her exhaled breath.  __If only, she thought, __if only I could get up there.  Then I'd be happy.  Then I'd belong. _

_ She let her mind drift, and focused only on what it would be like to be in the storm, not just her magical self, but her real self.  No one would be there to criticize her.  She smiled.  Up in the storm, she could dance around, a thing she never dared do in reality for fear of being teased.   Tris could almost feel the cool breeze running over her body as she twirled like a piece of cloud, caught up in a dance that had no rhythm and did not heed time.  _

"Tris," called a voice from downstairs.  

Tris's eyes popped open as she was jerked back into reality.  _Now when did I close my eyes, she thought to herself as she brought her hands up to rub them.  _

"Supper's ready Tris, and I don't think Briar can wait much longer."  The voice belonged to Sandry, one of Tris's three house mates.  

Tris continued to rub the sleep out of her eyes.  "You can wait a few more minutes," she whispered under her breath, fiercely wishing that Sandry could leave her alone so that she could keep dancing with the clouds.  She had been having such a great time, and now it was spoiled.  

Thumps began echoing in the hallway as Sandry scurried up the stairs to see what was taking Tris so long.  With each step, Sandry grew more and more vexed with her friend.  Supper had been ready for nearly ten minutes.  Uncharacteristically late, Briar had shown up at the table only a few minutes ago, with an even more out of character pout on his tanned face. _So it's not entirely Tris's fault that we've been waiting, she told herself, __although, I don't know why she didn't answer when I mind spoke to her.  Maybe she's in one of her moods.  _

Sandry opened the door to Tris's bedroom.  "Come on Tris, the soup is getting cold-" Sandry trailed off, her mouth gaping in a very unladylike manner.  

There was a complete, miniature storm system in Tris's bedroom, and Tris was standing in the middle, apparently unaware of it as she rubbed her eyes clumsily.  

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Tris replied, her hands still rubbing her eyes. They felt weird for some reason, sort of tingly all over as if she had just stared into a bright light.  She finally opened her eyes and gasped.  "How did this get here?" she asked quietly. Sandry, not knowing if she had asked her or herself, didn't answer immediately.  Instead, she observed the storm more closely.  The storm was in a strange curved pattern, roughly ten feet long at its longest point.  It came up to Tris's middle, so to the sixteen year old noble it seemed that Tris was a towering spirit that had no legs, only clouds.  To the right side of the storm it had begun to rain.  

"Tris, you'd better stop it.  It's raining all over your rug," Sandry said, her eyes glued to the perfect little raindrops that were falling.  

"Cat dirt," Tris muttered, wading though the storm to examine her now wet rug.  Sandry gasped as she caught a glimpse of the red heads eyes.  

"Tris, your, your eyes!"  

"What about them?" Tris mumbled as she gently coaxed the storm into ceasing its downpour.  

"They're…gone."  

"What are you talking about?  I can see you clear as day."  

Unable to find the words to describe them, Sandry reached into her pouch that hung by her waist to pull our a piece of looking glass.  As she did this, she sent a silent mind message to Briar and Daja downstairs.  _Briar, Daja, get Niko up here right now, she commanded the two in a hushed, calm tone.  _

_What are you two girls doing up there, gabbing while I sit here and starve? Briar demanded, a wave of moodiness clinging onto his mind speak.  Sandry felt an inner part of her smile at this.  __So, it seems Briar is finally joining the ranks of a "moody teenager".  She quickly put that thought aside.  _

Sandry flashed a picture of what was going on  to the two of them.  _Just get him up here, and maybe Lark and Rosethorn also.  _

_Alright, responded Daja.  She felt them break their link and heard a scuffle of chairs from downstairs.  This mind conversation was done in a matter of seconds, and as Sandry finished talking to them she handed Tris her looking glass.  _

"Oh...my," was all Tris managed to say as she stared into the mirror.  Her eyes, usually a piercing gray, looked as if they were made up of lightening.  The whites of her eyes were gone, also.  The only thing that stared back at her were eye shaped flashes of bright yellow.  

The door swung open and the remainder of the inhabitants of Discipline entered with their teachers, with Niko leading the way.  Tris head jerked sharply at the noise of the door opening, and she met them all with a glowing stare.  Niko halted upon making eye contact with Tris, causing everyone behind him to stop as well.  He maintained his stare with Tris, his eyebrows knitting as if he was in deep thought about what he was seeing.  

Briar peered over Niko's shoulder to examine Tris.  Her eyes had unnerved him when Sandry had flashed them in his mind moments ago.  They reminded him of a story he used to hear on the streets as a boy, about young girls who were possessed by evil spirits and killed people by staring at them with fiery eyes.  _Sure this hasn't happened to Coppercurls, he told himself, eerily eyeing the storm that was swimming around his waist.  __This is probably just something to do with her magic, maybe she discovered a new way to grow lightening.  _

"Trisana," Niko said, breaking the silence that had entered the room along with him, "please remove this storm from your room at once."  His voice sounded strained to Tris, like he was forcing himself to be calm.  

"Sure." Tris replied, a little disturbed by how everyone was staring at her like she was, was…_a demon.  Tris closed her eyes, even though the others could still see the lightening underneath her lids, and focused her magic. _

 _This storm came from me, so I'll just put it back.  She opened her hand, and waved it in a circle in front of her, calling the storm into the palm of her hand.  She quickly closed her hand into a fist, capturing the storm into a tight ball and sending it back into her body.  She opened her eyes.  The storm was gone, but she could tell by the look on everyone's faces that her eyes had yet to return to normal.  Tris did not feel comfortably under their scrutiny, and quickly turned away from them, facing a wall so they couldn't see her eyes.  "I don't know what I did to my eyes, but I don't think it helps any that you all are staring at me like a leper."  _

"You're right, of course," Niko responded smoothly turning to the others.  "Children, you may all go down to supper and begin eating.  You may too, Tris, if you would like to.  Lark, Rosethorn," he added as Daja, Briar, Sandry and Tris shuffled down the stairs, Tris with a more distinctive sense of lagging than the others, "I believe that we might need a conference, Frostpine included.  It looks like," he stopped, glancing down the stairs to make sure that the children were not in hearing range, "it looks like one of my initial worries is coming true."  

"God-head," Lark responded quietly, making a gods-circle on her chest.  Rosethorn's face took on a grimmer aspect at hearing her friend speak those words.   

"Yes, and if that is the case, we all know what we must do."

~*~*~*~*~

I already have the next chapter, but will wait to update.  The amount of REIVIEWS I receive ***hint hint* will help me along.    Any feedback is much appreciated, either through the reviews or email at magdalena134@hotmail.com**


	2. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER: ** See Chapter I if you are still confused….moron…what?

**NOTE : **I'll try to include more characters (i.e. Briar) in this story a little later.  I felt that it was necessary to develop the basis of the storyline a bit more before trying to go off and write the world's greatest love-epic…

 **TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED**:  Thank you thank you thank you thank y'all so much for reviewing.  No matter how corny it sounds, the review really does make the authors day.  And since I do not have much written for the next installment, you can be guaranteed that 

MORE REVIEWS = MORE STORY 

**TO EVERYONE WHO DID NOT REVIEW:  **You suck.

Without further adieu, I hope y'all enjoy!

**EAST of the ALTER**

by Anyanka

Ch. II 

                                                                _"There's not a lot of me left anymore-just leave it alone_

_                                                                But if you're by and you have the time_

_                                                                Tell the Northern Lights to keep shining-_

_                                                                Lately it seems like they're drowning"_

                                                                                                                Myra Ellen Amos

Once all seated around the table, four of the world's most powerful mages, Sandrilene fa Toren, Daja Kisubo, Briar Moss, and Trisana Chandler found that they had nothing to say to each other.  Or to be more specific, Tris had nothing to say to anyone, and the others were uncomfortably squirming around in a strained silence, not knowing if they should try to talk to Tris or act normally.  

Tris sullenly looked down at her food, well aware of the silent debate that hung in the air.  She hated situations like this.  Hated any situation, actually, that involved her.  _Great, she thought to herself, finally picking up her spoon and stirring her tomato soup with it.  __Just great.  I do one thing, ONE THING that is unusual, and now they're treating me just like those girls back at my old school, like a demon..  Mila, I am so stupid!  Why couldn't I have just contained myself?  _

Her eyes grew uncomfortably warm and a deep frown etched its way onto Tris's face as she mechanically began eating away at her soup, trying to mask her disgust for herself through the one constant fixture in her life, food.  

The other three continued to glance up and make eye contact with each other.  Reaching out with her magical wires, Daja formed mind connections with Briar and Sandry, purposefully leaving out Tris.  

~_Umm, you guys, should we talk to Tris?  It's not like she's changed or anything.~_

_  Sandry responded to Daja's query.  ~__I know you're right, Daj, but it's just so….so creepy.  She reminds me of these faerie tales my old nurse maid  used to tell me, about Jungfraus, these young girls who were possessed by- Briar's mind voice, the feeling of cool green vines and warm earth, cut Sandry off.  ~__I've heard that tale too, Sandry, but come on, it Tris!~  _

"This is so stupid!" he exclaimed, not realizing that he had said it aloud until he saw Tris's head jerk up.  Her now literally flashing eyes turned on  him with a slight mixture of question and anger playing across her face.  

"What's stupid?" she asked in a low, monotonous tone.  

Briar gulped as he stared back into the bottomless lightening that reproached him.  It wasn't until this moment, when Tris's steel eyes had been replaced with one of Mother Nature's tools of fury, that Briar realized how much he would miss looking into Tris's eyes if they never returned to normal.  When he'd first met Tris, he thought that her cold looking eyes seemed void of any emotion, but in the face of this, he realized that those stormy eyes held a warmth that lightening could never duplicate.  

"It's stupid that we all aren't talking right now.  So what if you've got lightening for eyes?  It'll probably clear up, and if not, you'll be able to read in the dark without a candle." 

The light hearted jest elicited a giggle from all of the girls and a small smile broke its way through the barrier of Tris's frown.  "Briar's absolutely right," Sandry piped in, "it's not like it is anything but a superficial change, and it can't be permanent."  

Daja nodded in agreement, and then added with a toothy smile, "Besides, the look suits your personality, Merchant-Girl."  

"Har har, Daja, very funny."  

They all resumed their meal, carrying on as if everything was normal.  The usual sounds of dinner, banging silverware, laughing, and light arguing, soothed Tris to no end, and she let her smile grow until it almost felt like a real one.  _You were be foolish earlier, she told herself.  __Briar, Daja and Sandry are not like those girls.  They are your friends.  They are your **family.  Another small thought nagged her at that new thought.  **__If they are my family, then I guess it is wrong to wish that…  She shook her head, making her cropped copper curls fly about.  She was being ridiculous.  Again.  _

Briar broke a piece of bread and began chewing on it, when a nagging though hit him.  "Hey Tris?"  

"Yes," she said, turning from Daja to Briar.  

"I know this sounds stupid, but I always heard this story as a kid about girls who had eyes like that and could shoot fire out of them."  

"And your point it?"  

"Do you think you could?"  

"Maybe if I was properly motivated, or had a target, _Thiefboy."  _

Daja and Sandry had sat silent and listened to their exchange.  "Seriously, though," Daja added, leaning forward in her chair, "it would be kind of weird if you had lightening in your eyes and you couldn't use it somehow."  

"I agree," Sandry added, "if you aren't able to, I guess, _shoot lightening, I would figure that you could do something."  _

Tris harumphed and jammed a piece of sliced apple into her mouth.  "Well I'm happy to hear that you all have become such lightening experts in the light of this."  

"Why don't you just try," Daja coaxed, pushing her empty plate forward on the table.  

"Why don't I try?  Because I know nothing will come of it!"  

"Come on, if you don't try we're going to nag you to death!" Briar quipped.  

Tris sighed.  They were not going to let up.  _This is so preposterous.   They have no basis to expect me to be able to do this except for a faerie tale!  "Fine," she finally said, after a few moments of deliberation.  "But let's do it outside.  If this works, which it most definitely will __not, I do not want to get yelled at for burning something up."  _

"Fine by me," Briar said as he gracefully leapt out of his chair and hurried out of the door.  The girls all met him about five hundred yards from the cottage, where he was anxiously dancing around, acting as if he had been waiting for years instead of a few seconds.  

"Why are you so excited about this, Thiefboy?"  Tris asked, smoothing out her long skirts that had become rumpled.  "It's not like it's going to be for your benefit."  

Briar smiled as he noticed her smoothing out her skirts.  When her hands didn't have a book in them, they were forever on a quest to keep her clothes as smooth as possible.  _I guess it's either endearing or an annoying character trait, he thought to himself before answering her.  _

"I know, I know…I just think that it would be, well, cool.  Like proving a faerie tale true."  

"Cool?" Daja asked, unfamiliar with the _kaq word. _

"Yes, cool.  It means….I don't know, wonderful."  

"I see," Daja replied, inwardly shaking her head at the crazy _kaq slang that Briar spouted daily.  _

"Let's hurry and get this done with.  Our teachers have to come downstairs eventually," Tris said, moving from one foot to another.  It felt queer to be outside.  The air felt different on her skin, and it carried with it an unknown scent that somehow seemed to be rooted in the back of Tris's mind.  And although she could usually see magic, everything seemed so much brighter than usual, and she could swear that everything, from the grass to the trees, made some sort of humming sound.  

"Alright," Briar agreed.  "Hmm, let's see.  Remember that summer when the pirates attacked and we had you practice hitting targets with lightening?"  

"How could I forget," Tris sneered.  

"Well, why don't you try that again, but this time try shooting it out from your eyes."  

Daja took the tip of her foot and made a medium sized _X in the dirt, then took several steps back so that she was standing behind Tris.  "It's not that I don't trust you," she muttered under her breath as she carefully made sure that she wasn't in Tris's peripheral vision either. _

 "Thank you for your vote of confidence."   

"Go on," Sandry said in a smooth voice.  "Just concentrate on sending the lightening out."  

Tris calmed her breathing and began to focus.  Like in her usual meditation, she began seeking for her inner haven, the place where she let her physical mind rest while her metaphysical mind took over.  When she could feel herself approaching it, she stopped.  Something was different about it.  There was someone, or something else in there.  

Fury began finding its way into Tris's mind at the thought of something else being in her haven.  She decided to go ahead and enter, and force whoever was in there out.  She felt herself enter, and began looking around with her mind's eye.  She couldn't see anyone, but she could feel traces of their energy all around, lingering on the windblown autumn trees, lying on the smooth rocks that made out the cliff that overlooked the misty sea.  She extended her power to try and trace the energy more accurately, but found that the energy seemed to be connected to everything, and was slowly fading.  

_Now this is weird, she thought to herself, noting that the traces were diminishing rapidly.  She quickly sent out  a whirl of wind and grabbed hold of a clump of energy.  __I'll follow it and see where it leads me to.  She waited for the energy to travel someplace, back to its master as most energy does, but instead is slowly dispersed itself into the earth and the air.  _

_I've never seen energy just dissipate like that, not without coaxing or a charm.  She felt another presence in the back of her mind.  _

~_Sometime this century, if you please.~   _

~_Excuse me for meditating, Briar~ she spoke back, getting herself back on task.  She promised herself to investigate this later.  Right now she had to show her friends that she didn't have any new "powers".  _

Finally focused, she began working on sending the lightening out.  She tried for nearly a minute, but to no avail.  ~_See you guys, it doesn't work~ _

_ ~Just try a little harder~ Sandry urged, ~__You've only been trying for  a minute, after all~ _

Tris began concentrating again.  _Alright, just think Tris.  Earlier when you created the storm system, it came from you.  It was you.  This lightening is a part of you, so you should be able to project it like the storm. Now the question is…how in the Queene Faerie's name did I manage to create that storm?  _

Tris's physical self bit her lip as her magical self spun around in a spiral, a shape of power, trying to recall how she had created that storm.  

_I had been wishing that I was up in the storm, and I envisioned myself there, let myself go, I…I…marred the boundaries between physical and magical, but not exactly like I had wanted to.  I wanted to travel up to the storm, the magic of the storm, but the storm traveled through me to get down to where I was.  And the storm's magic stayed __in me.  I **am**__ the storm.  _

With that realization, Tris sent two shots of lightening out from her eyes, hitting the target perfectly.  Her friends all whooped and hollered at her accomplishment, but Tris barely heard them.  She felt overrun with power.  She wasn't Trisana Chandler, clumsy, stout sixteen year old girl anymore, and she knew it.  She was the Storm, the clouds, the water, the air…she felt united with everything.  

"The Living Circle," she whispered under her breath.  She noticed that she even felt the magic that connected her to the words she spoke, and saw her breath come out in bursts of light yellow magic.  

"Good job, Coppercurls," Briar exclaimed as he patted Tris on her shoulder, lightly touching the bare skin of her neck.  

Tris hissed in a breath of air.  The moment when his skin had touched hers, she had felt connected to Briar, even more so than they were now.   Flashes of his past had played across her bright eyes, but they had departed the moment his feathery touch had.  With those images she had also felt her power surge even more, as if it were building to a steady climax that was not conceivable by man.  

She began growing nervous.  

Everything was glowing with too strong a magic, causing her eyes to hurt.  The low humming she had heard before was growing, reaching frenzied pitches that even a choir of banshees could not do justice to.  Tris gulped as each of her senses was overwhelmed, while her friends seemed oblivious to these dramatic changes and continued talking, but in slow motion.    

"You guys," Tris said, looking at her friends, her hands trembling fiercely.  They all looked to her and immediately noticed that something was wrong.  

"Tris?" Daja asked, rushing up to her, reaching out her arms to support her friend who seemed like she might fall at the slightest breeze.  

"Don't…don't touch me," she wheezed out, the air becoming too tainted with magic for her to breathe.  Tris sank down to the ground, lying supine, her red face staring up at the sky.  Unasked, Briar ran into the house, calling the names of his teachers as he went.  

"What is it?" Sandry cried, as she and Daja surrounded the downed girl.  

"The magic," she sputtered out, closing her eyes and letting them drift to the back of her head.  She could feel that energy in her haven again.  "Consuming," she coughed, turning her face away.  

Sandry reached down to cup Tris's face, but Daja stopped her.  

"She told me not to touch her, and she probably knew what she was talking about."  

"I don't care.  Look at her, Daja, it looks like she's dying!"  

Briar swung the door open and ran up the stairs, slightly tripping over his own feet as he went.  "ROSETHORN, NIKO, LAAAARK!" he cried out, as his heart began matching the frantic pace of his feet.  Something bad was happening to Tris.  Tris, his friend, his sister, the person who had saved his life so many times, and in so many ways.  

He threw the attic door open to find his teachers rising from their respective seats upon hearing the commotion that he had been making.  

"What is it lad?" Rosethorn asked.  Her face had worry tainting its usually hard exterior, and even more so now that a red-faced Briar had made his way in the room.  

"Tris, she's-something's wrong.  She can't breathe.  It's like magic is killing her."  

The three teachers collectively sucked in gasps of air at the same time.  

"That's what we felt," Lark said quietly, her wide eyes traveling from Niko's to Rosethorn's.  "Gods help us, I thought that was Mila."  

"There's not time for speculation now," Niko replied crisply, and began chasing after Briar, who had already taken down the stairs.  Rosethorn and Lark followed at the same pace, although they managed to say a few quick words to each other.  

"I though it was Mila also," Rosethorn said quietly as they hurried down the stairs.  

"I never thought…Tris, god-head.  If only we had recognized the signs…"  

"Gods give perseverance and strength.  I wouldn't wish what she's going to have to go through on anybody" 

~*~*~*~*~*~

_"Now, please answer me the best you can.  When did she first begin showing signs of a god-head?"_

Tris focused on her breath as she slowly awoke.  She was hearing voices talking about her…one sounded like Niko, and the other might have been Honored Moonstream, but she couldn't be too sure.__

_"The first major signs appeared a little over two days ago, when she invoked the Magick of Storm, much to the bafflement of herself and all of us."_

_                Tris mind began resuming it's normal state, although something felt terribly off.  __Two days? She thought to herself.  __But it was only a few minutes ago when we were in the yard and…oh my.  The events of what had happened came rushing back to her, the feel of magic overpowering her, trying to crush her very body…___

_"I see.  I'm sure that you're well aware that Invoking the Magicks, of any kind, requires being well past the intermediate stages of god-head and is strictly forbidden by the Mage Council unless the mage has passed the prerequisite trials."_

_"Yes, I know that, but-"_

_"And due to their dangerous nature, are strictly outlawed to be performed in Summersea, even under the closest supervision.  Now, granted, we know that she is a very…unique mage, but surely with you as her teacher, you could have recognized that she was going through god-head transformation."_

_"I agree," confirmed the voice Tris now knew to be Niko__, "under normal circumstances, I would have been able to tell that she was becoming a god-head, however I've come to believe that her transformation began even before she came to Winding Circle."_

_What in the Dark Land are they talking about?  I've never heard of such a  thing as god-head in my life, Tris thought furiously, trying to open her eyes but finding that her body lacked the strength to do even that._

_"How so?"_

_"From what I've studied about god-heads in the past few months, the first sign of the transformation is severing all mortal ties.  The mage does this without understanding why, until finally all relationships and familial ties have been severed so completely that neither person, the mage nor the other person, feels any connection left with the other, whatsoever."_

_"I'm not sure if I see where you are going with this."_

_"Trisana Chandler was ten when I…discovered her.  Her parents did not want anything to do with her and had virtually disowned her; indeed, according to my old friend Kenswall Olivegrove who worked with House Chandler they would have done so the next month or so.  Her other family members, one by one, rejected her.  Before we took her on, she had traveled from school to school, subconsciously making sure that no one could grow close enough to her to get hurt or hinder her potential."_

_"I follow your assumptions, but the question that protrudes on my mind is this; if her transformation presses her to sever ties, how is it that you've managed to keep her at Winding Circle these six years, and that she's managed to cultivate close relationships with almost everyone here?"_

There was a brief pause in the conversation, and even Tris could tell that Niko was struggling to say something.  She had already heard enough.  Magick, the one thing that made her special, was actually the root of all her problems.  It had been magick, the magick which made her free to dance in the clouds, that had caused her so much pain.  It had been the reason why her family had turned on her, one by one.  It had been the motivation behind those nights when she had crept to the kitchen, her face wet with oceans of tears, searching for comfort and love in the form of something edible instead of an actual person.  For the first time in a very long time, Tris hated magick.

_"I managed to get Tris to stay by…by performing the Binding Ritual on her."_

_"You did what?  Niklaren Goldeye, mark my words, throwing around such a weighty ritual, and on a non-consenting party is worthy of a swift tribunal and a lingering punishment-"_

Tris could hear Niko running his hands through his hair, still vein as ever even in dire situations.  Dark, biting hatred began mixing with her blood, as she desperately tried to block out the entire conversation.

_"It was the only option we had.  When I looked upon that girl, the very first time I saw her…you will never know the tremendous power that I saw…and I was afraid.  Afraid that we would not be able to teach her, afraid that her powers would grow, with no direction.  Afraid of what she might, no, what I know she would have become if I failed her as her teacher."_

He paused to take a breath, trying to calm his shaking hands.  "_I saw what her future would be if I did not somehow manage to keep her at Winding Circle.  Yes, what I did was unethical and could have seriously harmed the both of us, but if I hadn't performed that ritual, she would have left Winding Circle.  I have saved thousands, millions of lives by keeping her here and teaching her."_

_"Is all that you say true, Master Goldeye?"_

There was a burst of nervous laughter from Niko.  _"Of course it's true!  Do you think us Truthsayers are any good at lying?"_

_"I trust that you all are not.  Very well then.  We will ready a ship for her, but that will take at least a week with all of special provisions we need.  Until then, I leave Trisana Chandler in your care, under the strict instructions that you must keep storing her power in the crystals least she reach her pinnacle before she is prepared for it."_

_"Of course, Honored Moonstream."_

There was the sound of footsteps, but they stopped suddenly.  _"One more thing, Niko.  You must make sure she severs all her ties.  After she departs for the Trials, she cannot retain any contact, magical or physical, with anyone.  The trials would kill whoever she was connected with, if they don't kill her first."      _

She heard Niko sigh and she felt a prickling of her skin, the sign she got whenever she could feel eyes on her.  "Oh Tris," he whispered as he sunk down onto the stool next to her bed.  She felt her quilt move a little as Niko quietly laid his arms down on the bed, and soon put his head between them.  

"I'm so sorry, Trisana.  I should have known.  Any good teacher…" he let his words trail off in a muffled choke.   The anger that Tris felt burned a little less bright and was replaced by pity.  _He hadn't wanted to do this all to me, he had to.  _

After a few minutes of stillness and silence, Niko's composure was back.  He deftly stood and began fumbling around in his pouch.  He pulled out an uncut quartz crystal, about the size of his fist.  "At least you are asleep for this, Tris," he mumbled, as he began to softly chant the words that would draw her power from her body and into the crystal.  

Tris suppressed a cry as she felt a part of her being wretched from her body.  It was as if something powerful was tugging at her spirit, trying to remove it from its fleshy encasements.  Along with her spirit, she could feel pictures, images…memories fleeing her body also.  She was paralyzed as she watched her past slowly unravel before her.  A six-year-old Tris desperately trying to hide under her bed and mask her choked sobs as an elderly aunt searched for her with a switch.  Kirel pulling a practical joke on Daja and successfully dumping a bucket of ash on her skin before they both fell down laughing.  That day a few months ago when she had agreed to try and teach Briar how to make pancakes, and she had ended up with a gargantuan amount of flour on her face and a warm tingling that traveled from her head to her toes. 

The last image that flashed before her was one that she thought she would cherish until the day that she was reborn, that nothing could wrench away from her.  There was Lark and Sandry, sitting at the loom and discussing which color would look best in the pattern, Rosethorn attempting to teach the medicinal uses for alpine lily to Briar, who was more fascinated in throwing minuscule pieces of potpourri at a hard working Daja than anything else, and Tris, sitting in the corner like a lazy cat, book in hand, surveying the scene and realizing for the first time that she had a family.

  She had little time to focus on the pain, though, because, for the second time that week, she sunk into the abysmal abyss of unconsciousness. 

Oooooh….what's gonna happen next? If you'd **REVIEW, PURRTY PLEASE,** maybe we ALL could find out a lot sooner.  Any additional feedback is welcome, either through the ff.net reviews or through email ( magdalena134@hotmail.com ).


	3. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER: I hate redundancy, especially when something is overly redundant.**

**NOTES: I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed so far, the responses have been FANTABULOUS!!!  There's a lot more Briar in this chapter, so I hope that it appeases some of you.  If not, let me know what directions you'd like the story to take, and MAYBE I'll incorporate them…but maybe I won't.  I'm fickle.  **

                                                PLEASE REVIEW, LOVIES!

**EAST of the ALTER**

by Anyanka

Ch. III

_"Alas, how much I thought I knew about love,_

_                                                                                And how little I really know._

_                                                                                For I cannot keep myself from loving_

_                                                                                Her from whom I will gain nothing._

_                                                                                She has taken all my heart, my soul_

_                                                                                Herself and all the world."_

_                                                                                                 -Bernart de Ventadorn's ___

_"Quan vey la Lauzeta"_

Briar sat at the long kitchen table, his deft fingers working on the mindless task of making rosemary tincture.  Handful dried rosemary.  Grind with pestle.  Wrap in cheesecloth.  Repeat for now, until had enough bags of cheesecloth to make a few pints of tincture.  Briar was thankful for this mundane task, though.  If Rosethorn had asked him to do anything that actually required thought, he was sure that he wouldn't be able to focus.  

_Tris.  _

She had been the one thought on his mind for the last two days, while she lay locked up in her room like the maiden Raefuenzell, unattainable yet always in thought.  Only his teachers and Honored Moonstream had been allowed to see her.  Even at this moment, Niko and Honored Moonstream were up there, where _his Tris was lying there, going through Green Man knows what.  _

Briar sighed as he reached for a fresh piece of cheesecloth.  _ Gods, I hope Tris is all right. Please, don't let anything happen to her… he quickly brushed a hand across his face to catch an un-fallen tear.  When Rosethorn had crossed over, even though it was only for a brief amount of time, he had nearly gone insane with the thought of losing her.  If that ever happened to Tris…__I wouldn't be able to go on.  She's my mate, she's my, my- _

"How are the tinctures coming, my boy?"  Briar's head jerked up as his train of thought was interrupted.  Rosethorn glanced down at the boy, a feat that she could seldom accomplish unless he was sitting, since Briar's growth spurt had sent him up to 5-10".  

"After we finish with rosemary, we'll need to start up with hopps.  You're blushing boy," she added, as she pulled a chair towards the table.  Briar shook his head to dispel the thought that had been running rampant in it ever since Tris had taken…ill.  

"The tinctures are fine, Rosethorn.  Almost done," he added, wrapping some rosemary grindings in cheesecloth.  

Rosethorn gave a curt nod, which, after working with  her for six years, Briar recognized as a sign of approval.  She pushed her sleeves up and began working alongside her student.  They worked together in a companionable silence for sometime, the only sound breaking the silence that of Honored Moonstream's quiet exit from the attic.  No questions or words were exchanged between any of them, although Honored Moonstream did seem to cast a grim aura around the room. 

After a few minutes, Briar ventured to break the silence.  "Rosethorn?"  

"Yes boy?"  

Briar bit his lip.  Throughout the entire two days, Briar had been afraid to ask this question.  _I guess actually saying it shows Tris as vulnerable…it questions her mortality…_

_ "Is Tris dying?"  _

Rosethorn's unfaltering hands skipped a beat, but she quickly regained her composure.  "No, lad, she isn't."  

Relief sunk into Briar and he let the refreshing feeling dwell within him for a moment before he continued.  "Then what's wrong with her?"  

Rosethorn pursed her lips together. Lark, Niko, and a later consulted Frostpine, had agreed that not discussing what was happening with Tris was probably the best approach to take with their students.  After much coercing, Rosethorn had also agreed to remain silent until they knew exactly what was going to happen.  If the children-_Not children, she mentally scolded herself, __but not yet adults either - knew what was happening to her, and what would happen to her, even their teachers could not hold back whatever forces they might try to unleash to save their friend.  _

Rosethorn's eyes flickered as she recalled the conversation she and the other teachers had had the night that Tris began her first serious Transformation.   

_"I think it would be in the best interest for Tris…for ALL of us if we didn't tell the children about Tris achieving god-head," Niko said as he looked down at his student, once with such a powerful and fiery temper, now lying unconscious at the mercy of anyone.  _

_"What?!" demanded Rosethorn, her green eyes meeting Niko's.  "They deserve to know.  They are closer to each other than any of us can comprehend, and to keep them in the dark about what's happening to Tris…how would you explain it to them if she dies during the trials?  She would have left in the night, and she'd never return.  They **need **__to know."  _

_"I agree with Niko," Lark said quietly from the corner she was sitting in.  She met her best friend's eyes that were beginning to cloud up with anger and hurt. "Rosie, I don't like the idea any more than you do, but just think for a moment.  Sandry, Daja and Briar would probably do anything to keep her here, Mila, they brought you back from the dead!  I think," she paused to take a breath, surveying the scene.  She wanted to break down right there, but she forced herself to go on, "that the children should not see Tris for as long as possible, perhaps only a quick goodbye before she leaves.  I do not want to lose any of them because of a stubborn refusal to sever ties.  I do think, however, that after we confirm what's happening to her, they should know a little about what's happening, about what a god-head is."  _

Even I'm not one hundred percent positive what a god-head truly is, _she added silently to herself.   _

Rosethorn drew herself back from her memories and looked to Briar.  His face was wrought with worry and so innocent, his green eyes wide and pleading with her for an answer, for something to explain why this was all happening to his best friend.  

"Listen closely, boy," she unintentionally rasped, her voice having never fully recovered from her bout in the Bright Land, "I will tell you what is happening to Tris because I believe that you deserve to know.  The others," she motioned with her hand to the window where Sandry and Daja were helping Lark paint a fence, "will find out soon enough.  It's only a matter of time before we told you anyway," she added, not sure if she was telling that to Briar or telling it to herself.  

"Tell me, have you ever heard of what a god-head is?"  

"No."  

"Let me think how to best explain this.  There are four stages of human development, each stage harder to achieve than the next.  Everyone starts at the same level, conscious-minded.  Ordinary people have achieved this level, and nothing more.  The next level is mage, which I believe you are well familiar with what a mage is.  Some people are born mages, but others can become mages through intense studies and a life-dedication to that goal.  Most people, though, are the former kind of mage.  People nowadays don't like to work towards anything-" 

"You're digressing, Rosethorn."  

She let a small smile play across her face.  "That I am.  The next level that can be achieved is servitude.  If one dedicates their life to the service of the Gods and Goddesses, on an extremely rare occasion they'll reach the level of servitude.  This means that the Gods and Goddesses have recognized their dedication and openly use them as a vessel. All of the prophets, or all four of them," she added dryly, "are Servitude.  Usually there is one profit every three hundred years or so, so having four at a time like there are now is exceedingly rare.  

"The last level that can be achieved by a human is god-head.  Now, I said that this is the last level that can be achieved by a human because after achieving it, they aren't exactly human anymore."  

"Is that what's happening to Tris?"  

"Yes, I'm afraid so.  Having someone achieve god-head is…well, most of the information you can obtain about it is considered legend, not factual, if that's any indication to you how extremely rare it is.  But here is what I know about it, and I'm sorry to say that this is about as much that anyone but a special few know.  

"When the universe was created, it was a result of a kind of reaction.  What was once One became many.  The One created everything, and things continued to go smoothly.  Earth developed, as did humans.  Earth was chaotic, though.  For example, the seasons were not set, so one could never tell when they should plant or harvest crops, so there was widespread famine.  In order to control this, a woman by the name of Mila achieved god-head."  

"You mean, like the Goddess Mila?"  

"Yes.  No God or Goddess started out as an immortal deity.  Yes, their spirit is eternal, but except for the One, all were once mortal and became gods by achieving god-head."  

Silence followed Rosethorn's speech, and she was determined to let it drift on until Briar broke it.  Briar had torn his eyes away form her and was trying to process all of the new information that had just been handed down to him.  _Tris is becoming a god-head.  Well, you always knew she was powerful, maybe the most powerful out of all of us, he gently chided himself.  When a question had finally formed in his mind, the voice that he managed to summon to ask the question was meek.  _

"So Tris isn't human anymore?"  

"No, lad, she's still human at the moment.  There's more to being a god-head than just achieving it.  You are familiar with Sirak, Bringer of Destruction, yes?"  

Briar nodded, inwardly shuddering at the mention of one of the most feared gods from his old homeland.  

"Many millennia ago, he too was human.  A sick and depraved mage, mind you, but still human.  Through unknown means, he managed to achieve god-head, and since there was no one to prevent him from seizing the power, he did just that and became one of the most feared Gods of Earth.  A council was set up not too soon after, composed of the brightest and most skillful mages around the world.   Their job was and still is to determine whether the person that achieves god-head is-" she paused, desperately searching for a euphemism that would fit with what she was trying to say, "up to the task.  If someone with evil intentions was allowed to have such power, imagine the havoc they could wreak."  

Briar nodded.  "So, Tris'll have to go to this council also, and they decide whether or not she should be allowed to be a god-head."  

"Yes."  

"What if they decide she shouldn't be a god-head." 

"If the council should find that it is in the best interest of the world to keep Tris from becoming a god-head, they will either…drain her of all of her magickal powers, or, as it is in the majority of cases that they've seen…" 

"They'd kill her." 

The voice that interrupted their conversation belonged to Niko, and he stared intently upon them as he made his way down from the attic.  Rosethorn pursed her lips together, continuing on with her work but anticipating the scolding she would get from him for telling Briar the truth of the situation.  

"What?" demanded Briar, rising to his feet to meet Niko's stare.  "They're going to kill Tris?"  

"They're not going to kill Tris, they _might deem Tris's life to much of a risk, and send her onto her next," Niko replied in a hushed and tired tone, not stopping to sit down but instead continuing towards the door.  He paused and turned back to them, for the first time letting the worn and haggard look on his face show clearly.  "I must go to port and help with the preparations for her journey.  She'll leave for the Trials in a week."  _

The last bit of his words came out, but just barely, his composure taut and almost to the point of breaking.  

"Gods help her," Rosethorn whispered, making a gods-circle on her chest.  _Though I wonder, she thought to herself, __if in a few months I might be invoking Tris's name and making god-circles that include her. _

_ "You may go and see her if you like, Briar.  You might as well share a few moments with her this week before she leaves, because-" The words Niko didn't say, __because you might never see her again, hung heavy in the air and Briar was too painstakingly aware of it.  _

"Thank you," Briar said as he began making his way towards the attic.  

Once he was up the stairs, Niko turned once again to leave and Rosethorn turned once again back to her dried herbs, assuming the roles they had both played over the years, the traveler and the gardener, finding a sort of comfortably and calming familiarity in those roles.  

~*~*~*~*~*~

Tris's attic room was crepuscular and dim.  Heavy drapes that had not previously been there hung about the windows, blocking the sunlight from entering.  Several crystals were strewn about on her night stand, with magickal symbols and markings drawn carefully around them, trying to keep the nearly blinding power that radiated from them contained.  

Briar took a moment to gaze a the crystals, even though they caused him to wince as only the sun could.  They crystals pulsated, and seemed to remind him greatly of Tris.  

He turned to look at her, after two days of being separated from her.  She was lying in her bed, twisted sheets draped over her body, only her shoulders and head showing from under them.  Her usually pale face had taken on an even whiter countenance, like the color of death, and her coppery hair fanned out around her, making a brilliant contrast, like blood on snow.   

_She is beautiful, he gently thought as he gazed upon the weak creature before him.  A stool was next to the bed, and Briar took a seat on it, as if trying to mimic the actions that Niko had taken earlier this day.  He scooted up as close t the bed as he could, and, with small hesitation, took her hand.  _

She felt cold.  Alien.  

_~Tris?~ he called out tentatively to her, his magickal vines attempting to find some piece of her magickal self to latch on to. He found nothing but a void where he tried to find her.  This person that lay before him was not Tris.  It was her shell.  __Maybe there's a little of Tris in there, he told himself, __but even if there is, it probably won't resurface until she wakes up.  _

He squeezed her hand gently, and continued to look upon her.  _But what happened to her?  Why isn't she in her body-"The Crystals."  _

He turned from her body and now focused on the crystals.  He had noticed that they seemed to radiate Tris, and now it made sense; her powers were being stored in the crystals.  Briar raised his eyes and glanced around, making sure that no one had entered without his knowing, because he didn't want anyone to see what exactly he was going to do.  

Seeing that the coast was clear, he extending a tendril of magick towards one of the crystals.  The pull he felt was incredible, and he was sucked into the crystal, into Tris.  Images and memories, _Tris's I suppose, flashed before him, along with idle thoughts.  It was as if he was viewing the world through the eyes of Tris.  _

It was breakfast, sometime a last winter.  Tris, now accompanied with Briar's magickal self, was seated at the table, looking glumly down into her book as the others chattered on.  

_How can they be so happy all the time? Tris wondered to herself as she turned a page__ I bet I could be just as perky if I could ever get a full night of sleep.  _

Before Briar could wonder what she had meant by that thought, images of the nightmare that Tris had suffered the night before fell upon him, visions of half mangled bodies reaching out to her, demanding to know why she had destroyed them when they were innocent.  It was almost as if he could smell the stench of their rotting bodies, and feel their slimy grip upon his skin as they grabbed at him, pulling him down below the cold water…Tris physically shook her head, to try and clear the thoughts from her head.  

_So that's why she is always shaking her head, Magickal Briar thought as he saw her shake her head, an action she did at least three times a day with no visible provocation.  __Every time she shakes her head it's because she's being haunted by images of that pirate attack…_

Tris looked up and her eye caught Briar's as he began helping himself to another bowl of porridge.  Magickal Briar did a double take upon seeing himself.  _Hey, he thought, __I'm a pretty handsome guy.  _

_Hey, Tris thought, __he's a pretty handsome guy.  Oh gods, don't say that.  He may be handsome, but YOU are disgusting.  Besides, it's only a matter of time until he and Sandry get involved.  Tris stirred her porridge idly as she continued to think, and Magickal Briar was engrossed with what she thought, entertaining for the first time the notion that maybe Tris liked him…_

_Why would anyone  choose you over Lady Sandrilene fa Toren?  Look at her, she's beautiful!  And me, ungodsly hair and glasses.  And fat, she added, with anger and self-loathing building up inside of her.  __Briar could never love me, not when I look like this.  I can't even love me…but why do I feel like I might be in love with him?? Gods, I wish I had never been born into this life!  _

Magickal Briar could feel Tris's eyes watering up as she savagely slammed her book closed and fled from the table.  Sandry, Daja and Briar looked up to watch her leave.  Magickal Briar noticed a look of compassion and concern in…_I guess in my eyes, he thought as he carefully regarded his face.  The feelings that he had for Tris were clearly written across his face.  _

_Why doesn't anyone else notice how I look at her?  Why didn't I ever notice how she looked at me?  She…she's in **love with me.  **_

Magickal Briar found himself speechless at that realization, but it was a good speechlessness.  Before he had time for anymore though, he began to feel a pull at him.  His magickal self was being pulled from the crystal, and he was soon back into his physical body.  

"Wow," he whispered to himself, his eyes still riveted on the crystal.  _That was not a dream, she actually-  _

He felt a shift on the bed slightly, and a scared voice called out to him.  

"Briar?"

Oh oh, maybe drop a line at magdalena134@hotmail.com or **_review, or the suspense will continue!_**


	4. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER :  Still the same, still the same.  This is not a decade of change.**

_Sorry this kind of short and mostly theological chapter was so late in coming…hey, kinda like the second coming of Jesus!  You wait and you wait…digression.  In truth, I was sick for over a week, was called into work a lot, and had hella school stuff to do.  Fun.****_

**NOTE TO READERS : I knew this would happen, and I was actually a bit later than I thought it would.  Yes, I know that "alter" and "altar" are different words.  I was hoping none of you did, though.  Yes, it is on purpose.  Why?  I guess y'all will just have to be good boys and girls and find out in time.  **Bonus Points** to the Dread Rainbow Man, perhaps my most staunch and crazily named reviewer, for pointing it out first.  Keep that steady grasp of the dictionary, my friend, and you shall go far in life! Grin…**

Ch. IV

_"Bird on a Briar, bird, Bird on a Briar,_

_                                                                                                Mankind is come of love, love to crave._

_                                                                                                Blithe bird on me have mercy,_

_                                                                                                Or build, love build thou grave."_

_                                                                                                                                -Medieval English Anon_

He felt a shift on the bed slightly, and a scared voice called out to him.

"Briar?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dreamless sleep, something akin to death, had consumed her body.  It was as if her soul had slowly leaked out of her body, like the moon slowly waning in the sky, and a torrent of un-magic had been let in instead.  Trisana Chandler had listlessly suffered through this, for she had little else of a choice.  If she had thought that in the dark nether regions of the human psyche she would find peace, that, for a moment, her over-wrought mind would somehow manage to sink into darkness, she was wrong.  

The part of her mind, whatever unknown part that was instigating the god-head transformation, would not follow suite with the rest of her mind and sink into nothingness.  Instead, it remained active, creating vivid imagery and disturbing pictures in what should have been a somber death-sleep.  

_There I am, Tris's inner voice slurred upon seeing a mental image that her mind was showing her.  Thin and sickly, there sat a crone so old and haggard that it was difficult to discern where her tatters of human flesh ended and the flesh of the rotten log which had begrudged her to rest began.  This harbinger of Death mournfully gazed down into her hands, as if studying their emaciated and pale visage for the first time.  _

"Gone," she rasped out.  "Gone."  

A small babe was cast out to the side, half hidden by the sharp twists of shrub roots.  Its thin rib cage slowly moved up and down, as it struggled for breath.  It turned to look at Tris, the cold, childlike eyes meeting Tris's.  

"I drank of her teat until I had my fill; but there was not enough for all to live."  

Tris shuddered at this cryptic picture…_Why do they haunt me?! She cried out in her mind. __ Why is this happening?  This isn't even making sense to me!!  _

The old crone paid Tris's queries no mind, but continued to sit in morbid fascination of her hands.  Suddenly there was a pull.  The rest of her mind slowly began to wake up.  _Thank the Gods, was all Tris managed to think before consciousness, in all its gravity, hit her.  The last thing she could hear before she was pulled back into the land of light was the raspy voice of the crone, screeching out to her.  _

"Why did I betray them all?  Why?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Tris?  Tris, are you all right?"

"What in the Darklands kind of question is that?  'Am I all right?' You….you…. you moron."

"Glad to see that your temper is in check, Coppercurls," Briar responded, relaxing a bit.  He had pivoted on the bed, so that he now sat facing her.  Tris still lay in her same position, except now the calm, if not death-like, look on her face had changed to one of annoyance.  Tris attempted to sit up, but quickly found that she possessed the strength not to do so.  

"Take it easy," Briar murmured, moving his hands to gently push down on her shoulders.  "I expect that your all bark, no bit right now."  

Tris relented and closed her eyes.  Briar let his hands linger on her shoulder, as if feigning some sort of a caressing gesture.  His mind was racing, set afire by his own thoughts about the recent revelation and the new thrill that seemed to spark to life in him just by touching Tris.  _Should I tell her how…how I feel?  No, she'd probably go off on me for going into her memories like that.  And she's probably too weak right now, but still…he couldn't stop himself from grinning like the village idiot.  _

Even though this was definitely not the right place, or the right time, he was ecstatic that Tris had feelings for him  

"So," Tris mumbled, her eyes still closed.  

"So," responded Briar in some sort of an agreement with her. 

"Are you new here?"  

"What?"  

"Are you new here?  At…Discipline?  I don't think we've met."  

Briar was stunned into silence, his mouth slightly agape.  

"If you don't want to answer me, fine.  Leave then.  I feel like I've been through the Darkland and back, and I don't need to be surrounded by some novice who can't string together two words."  

"Tris…oh Gods,"  Her memories were in the crystals.  Of course she wouldn't remember him, everything that made up who Tris was was currently not inside of her physical body.  "I am so thick.  Not just a few memories of yours are gone, all of them are.  You're memories, they…aren't with you at the moment.  You've just got to trust that I'm one of your mates."  

Her eyes shot open.  

"We're mated?"  

"I…no, no," he felt a blush creep upon his cheek, "you're just my friend, a friend, that's all."  

"Oh.  Well then.  If that's all, I'd really like to get some rest, I've got a great journey ahead of me, and time is running short," she responded, turning slightly and nestling her head deeper within the furrows of her pillow.

"You know about the journey? To the Council?" he asked, perplexed.

"All I know is that Mother is calling me, and I must answer Her.  Now go."   With such a royal and final dismissal, Briar felt compelled to obey.  He gathered himself and stood up.  He turned to look down upon her, perhaps the last time he would ever be able to do so.  Things were confusing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Down in the kitchen Lark, Sandry and Daja were fixing glasses of lemon water, the fence being completely painted and the three of them in dire need of a rest.  They were all startled to see Briar's tussled figure make its way down the stairs.  

"You know you aren't to be up there," Lark scolded, her usually warm eyes fixed upon him with worry.  

"I know.  Rosethorn said I could go up there."  

Lark turned her gaze to Rosethorn, who say ever vigilantly with her tinctures.  

"Niko and Honored Moonstream had finished with her.  She will depart in a week.  She's harmless right now, Lark.  Might as well let them all se her," was the succinct reply from Rosethorn, as she continued to concoct tinctures, not looking up to meet anyone's eye.  

"Where's she going?" asked Daja in alarm, forgetting her cool drink even though she had been one of its greatest proponents only moments before.  

Lark seemed to bite her lip before answering her question, and the questions that soon followed from the mouths of both Daja and Sandry, in a manner that was similar to how Rosethorn had answered Briar's questions about Tris.  

"So," Sandry said, once everything had been completely explained, "this could be Tris's last week with us."  

"Yes," replied Briar, somewhat gloomily, grabbing a seat next to Sandry, "and she doesn't even remember who we are.  I was up there talking with her, and it looks like all her memories of us are stuck in those crystals.  Even though," he added, as a second thought, "she did seem to know my name right when she woke up."  

"Maybe she was dreaming about you," Daja added in what can only be described as a girly voice, but what in all actuality was really a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.  Briar forced a smile, wondering what they would all think if they knew how much he wanted that to be the case.  

"Anyway, she's resting right now.  All that I could really get out of the conversation with her was that she hasn't had a very happy couple of days, and that her mother or something is calling her."  

"Not 'her mother', Mother," quipped Rosethorn, aged fingers continuing their work.  "It's just another sign of her god-head.  She is feeling the call of the Great Spirit.  Tris realizes, on whatever level that the god-head is affecting her, that she needs to go to the Trials."  

The kitchen was filled with silence, as each was absorbed by their own thoughts.  The only source of movement was the sunlight that filtered lazily through the dust that now could be seen floating everywhere, since Tris's dusting duties had been shirked.  The patterns and refractions they made were beautiful in a quaint way, their tiny, floating bits recalling the mind back to images of childhood faeries.  

"This really, really sucks."  

"Briar, I don't even know what that word means, but I agree," Daja said, taking a sip of the now remembered lemon water. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

She lay in her bed, straining her ears to hear the footsteps of the young boy as they began to fade.  When she was finally sure that he had gone, she opened her eyes and surveyed the room before her.  It was very plain.  _Now, what is going on?  That boy said that he and I were friends, but all that I know is that I must go and find Mother.  Oh Graces, this is confusing!  If only I could let my mind rest for a moment…a prickling sensation of memories resurface ran along her spine, as meditation techniques slowly came back to her.  _

Taking a deep breath, she began what had been a once familiar technique.  She felt her body slowly relax, and felt herself synchronize her breathing with the universe, or perhaps the other way around.  _Now, to find my haven…the nerve!  That person is back!  _

Along with remembering her techniques, she had also recalled what it felt like to have her haven violated, and once again, there it was.  This time, though, she was quicker to act.  Her inner-self quickly swooped down, to try and put a strangle hold on whoever was desecrating her most sacred ground.  With an elfish grin, she successfully got a hold of the invader.  

"No need for that, Sister.  I will stay with you as long as you like."  

Tris was taken aback. The familiarity of the energy surrounded her and things began making sense.  When she had last meditated, the alien energy had dissipated itself into the surrounding earth.  It was because the energy was the earth.  

Tris had, in a somewhat awkward strangle-hold, Mila of the Grain, Goddess of the Earth and triple trinity.  

Tris quickly recoiled as if she had been burned, and stuttered a bit before Mila continued.  

"I'm sorry to usurp your haven like this, Sister, but it was and is necessary."  

"Umm…all right," was the only response that Tris managed to emit as she gawked at the plump, womanly being that was before her.  

"I wanted to see for myself if you were going to join Us.  I know my actions might and still are a bit premature, but I'm fairly confident that they are correct."  

"So…so you're going to bring me to Mother?"  

Mila's eyes, the starry night sky, twinkled with delight.  "Yes, Sister, yes.  That is exactly what I am going to do.  Only I will need your help. As you will learn, you must sever all your mortal ties.  It should be easier for you, since crystals are coming to your most Holy Aide and are allowing themselves to be used as vessels."  

Tris took a moment to think.  "I…I think I can do that.  I don't remember anyone anyway.  There is this boy, though…it seems like he almost…I don't know, fancies me."  

"You cannot allow that to happen, dear Sister.  Even if this mortal does wish you for his consort, if you retain ties with him in the Trials to come, he will be killed."  

"I see.  So, how do I sever my ties exactly?" 

Mila took a moment to consider the question, running her hands over her rounded belly as she thought.  Finally, it appeared as if a suitable answer had been found, for she spoke.  "Trisana, you must be cruel.  For every wrong that had ever been wrought upon you, you must repay it threefold onto all of those around you.  Let their be no err in your practice; your kiss must be like that of the serpents, your words like the most deadly of poisons any dark mage could fathom, your manner colder than that of Wyntehrr's fiercest reign.  Only then will you be able to redeem those around you, and save them from a most painful passage into the next life."  

"I…I will do what you ask of me."  

Down in the kitchen, a chill worked its way down the spine of three youths, as they felt powers at work they were yet to understand.

Sorry this chapter is so short.  I'm ironing out some kinks in the groundwork…hopefully it'll be as smooth as a baby's ass in chapters to come…but you know what might make me write a little bit faster??  **_REVIEWS!!!!!!!!!!_**


	5. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER:  In a quirky turn of events, it turns out that I do own an oil-rich patch of soil out in western Kansas, thanks to great Uncle Ron.  However, it turns out that I do not own Tamora Pierce's Circle of Magic Books, thanks again to Uncle Ron.  Damn Uncle Ron…**

Hey all…ummm….late in coming, is that the phrase that I am looking for?  Since I'm not making any money off of this, I don't feel to terribly bad about breaking my personal deadlines.  Of course, disappointing my avid fans (because I have so many of them) does make me feel bad.  To you, that one guy in the back, I am very sorry that this post took forever.  Feel free to send any threatening emails to me at magdalena134@hotmail.com .

And as sure as a bride's choice of white is laughable, here it is!

East of the Alter

Ch. V

_"O my Mother, you who bore me_

_surely__ there is cause for grieving_

_O my Mother, you who bore me_

_surely__ there is cause for grief."_

                                -Kalevala, a Welsh folk tale 

****

****

The rest of the day passed uneventfully.  After Briar's encounter with Tris, she had sent out mind messages to each of them, asking in a polite yet restrained voice if they wouldn't bother her for the rest of the day, on account of her fragile state.  All the others had assented to what she asked, each of them still mulling over and a bit frightened by the thought of Tris leaving.  

The hours passed in a somewhat regular way for them, but upstairs, tucked away in the attic like a predecessor's heirlooms, the hours passed in a fickle way for the Trisana.  

As night approached, the dark blues of the sky melting into the tawny browns of the sinking sun, meshing the earth and sky together so well that where one stopped and the other began was indistinguishable, Tris listened to the soft sounds of slumber that came from the house below her.  She sat by her window and stared with intent on the beautiful display of colors before her, giving each detail such focus and attention, as if she were trying to lose herself into the sunset instead of her thought, or as if trying to memorize them.  Or perhaps as if this would be her last time to see them.  _And in a way, it will be, she thought to herself, while her hand toyed with an idle lock of hair.  _

Tris had heeded Mila's warning, and in her first act of isolating herself, she had requested to be left alone for the day.  It had worked, but as the day had worn on, she found that she had little to do, locked up in her room with only her thoughts and memories, or lack thereof, for company…and of course, her mind had strayed on those occasional thoughts…  

Ask any merchant you can find, be him a merchant from the harsh inner-city, or hailing from a pleasant sea-cost, what the one greatest weakness of all merchant kind is, and he shall answer you the same way as all others shall: Temptation.  Not greed, no, on the contrary, to a merchant greed is an essential quality, a quality one needs to be successful.  Temptation, that yearning desire to always have what is just beyond one's reach, to take what you know you shouldn't have, that is the one true failing of a merchant.  As is the same with Trisana.  

After the boy, Briar as he called himself, had left her, she had quietly considered what he had said to her, not only with words, but with a few ill-timed glances. "You're memories, they…aren't with you at the moment," he had muttered, somewhere amongst his other mumbled sentences.  Throughout the entire encounter, Tris had attentively watched him, noting with some interest that he oft-times glanced at the assortment of crystals that lay by her bed.  

She had inched her way over towards them and tentatively placed her palm over one of the smaller ones.  A flood of memories pierced through whatever barriers her mind had set up, and she experienced what can only be called to most extreme case of deja-vu.  She watched, much akin to the way Briar had, a few select memories that crystals had stored within them before she decided to pull out.  

_Now that was queer, she thought to herself, eyeing her palm as she turned her hand in soft semicircles.  __It feels as though…as though…I love them.  All of them.  _

That was what troubled Trisana's mind so as she sat in awe of the sun, the startling fact she had recalled over several hours ago.  That she truly loved everyone who lived in this house, and that they all loved her.  _It seemed so simple to do what Mila asked of me…but how can I cut them out of my life, my spirit, now that I know that such an act would crush them?  But how could I not?  If I don't pull away from them, I could kill them all…hrrmph.  Enough with all this.  I am going to bed.  The sun disappeared from the sky, leaving only darkness._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Wake up, Trisana.  Do you feel as if you can walk?"

"Grrmph."

"Excellent response, dear gir-excellent response."  Niko had just caught himself from letting the sentiment "dear girl" escape his lips.   _Remember, Niklaren, he told himself__, you mustn't allow her to become affectionate.  It had been six days since anyone had ventured up into Trisana's room, everyone thinking that it would be for the best to give her this remaining time alone.  Or perhaps not so much everyone, but the dedicates from nearby temples who seemed to grace Discipline with their presence as often as the Sun did with hers.  Niko's appearance in her room was a bit unexpected, and she forced herself to maintain a neutral-if not hostile-attitude towards it all._

"I'm Niklaren Goldeye, a teacher of sorts here at Winding Circle.  You might remember my name, you might not."  

Tris let out another snort and rolled on to her side, tangles of fiery hair ensnaring her face.  "Lemme alone.  Need sleep."  

"Not now, Trisana.  We both know you go off to the Council in a days time.  It is time for you-for us both to prepare.  I'll give you ten minutes to ready yourself."  

She heard his light footsteps as he left, and she sat up in bed, only slightly aware of the state of her hair.  Her horrendous hair maladies were a memory that the crystals had blessedly decided not to transfer.  _Remember, she coached herself as she went through the mechanical tasks of getting washed and dressed, __act as if you still don't remember them.  Act as if you do not love them.  Act as if…as if you hate them._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Downstairs at the breakfast table all the others along with Frostpine were gathered, waiting for Lark to finish washing up so they could break fast together.  Frostpine sat in Tris's chair, more out of necessity than want.  After the first few days of Tris's absences from meals, everyone had found that having an empty spot served as only a blatant reminder of what was happening to Tris.  They collectively decided that they needed a warm body to fill the spot, and Frostpine was more than happy to eat with them, not only for the company, but also because the forge lacked Dedicate Gorse's delectable specialties.  

"Lark," Frostpine bellowed in his deep, basso voice, "if you don't hurry up with tidying yourself, I'm likely to take this yapping dog who's taken it upon himself to pester me, and eat him."  

"Gods willing," Rosethorn muttered under her breath, narrowing her eyes at the hound.  His tail slunked between his legs and he slid off to the corner, not being able to stand such harsh discrimination.  

"We will be needing two more chairs," Niko commented as he walked down the stairs.  All heads turned to stare at him, as he brushed some hair out of his eyes.  "I've roused Trisana from her solitude.  She needs to make preparations for tomorrow.  She, along with myself, will be joining you all for breakfast."  

A hush fell upon the room.  

"Well, it's about time!" Lark cried out form the kitchen.  "We need to see her face at least once before she goes.  Rosethorn, will you help me set the extra places?"  

The three young mages glanced at one another.  _~You're the last one to see her, Briar,~ Daja asked, sending out her magick to the other two__.  ~Has she changed much, besides the memory thing?~ _

_ ~I don't know Daj.  I haven't seen her since.  I'm guessing that she still has no remembrance of any of us, which I guess will make it easier for her to…forget us, so to speak.~  _

_~So, should we ignore her when she comes down, or what are we supposed to do?~ Sandry asked, her blue eyes scanning Briar's green ones for an answer__. _

_ ~I-I don't know.  I don't think I'll be able to disregard her.  I mean, no matter what's happening to her, she's still Tris.~  _

_~You're right,~ Daja agreed, __~I think we should all unsamm'a jukwib'tsu__ - that's a Trader phrase…it roughly translates into 'play it by ear.'~ _

_~Daj, no offense, but that makes no sense whatsoever.~  Briar responded, scooting his chair over to allow for more room.___

"Shut up, Kaq-y head."  

"Kakky head?  OK, Daj, now you're just being immature?"  

"I'm not too sure about that, Briar.  It does seem to kind of fit.  Oh, better yet, Kaq-y face," Sandry added.

"Or Kaq-y brain!"  

"Or Kaq-y pants!"  

Both girls paused, and then burst out into laughter.  

"Oh Goddesses, Kaq-y pants!  Sandry, that's excellent.  I-I-" Daja couldn't even finish out her sentence, the fits of laughter were coming out of her so hard that she could hardly finish a breath.  

"Girls," Briar muttered, fiddling with his napkin, "sometimes I don't even think that they're human."  

"Me too," Tris responded, making her way down the stairs.  Briar looked up to her, and his throat convulsed.  There was Tris…and her hair looked magnificent.  Since she didn't remember that she hated her hair, she hadn't bothered to try and comb out the curls when she had woken up, and the result was an astounding nestle of curls that seemed to snap with energy…except there was no lightening to be seen.  That is, no lightening except for that which still lingered in her eyes, occasionally flashing every now and then.  

Daja and Sandry's laughter soon died out, as they both fixed their attention on their friend.  "Don't stop your merriment on my account.  It's not as if I'd add to it at all."  _Oh, good one Tris.  Remember, do not let them know that you remember.  You do not like them.  You hate them, you hate them…  She repeated this silent mantra in her head a few more times, until she felt she had it ingrained within her.  _

The three were a bit taken back by her scathingly delivered comment, and they let a silence engulf the room while she and Niko took their seats.  Once everyone was seated, Niko cleared his throat.  

"Would anyone like to ask for the blessing?"  

"I will," Tris said, eagerly volunteering.  

"Mila of the Grain, please bless this food which You have grown for us, and may it strengthen the bodies of these strangers whom I see before me, and may it give me strength to venture home to meet you.  By the Earth."  

"By the Earth," everyone repeated, a little bit lackluster, though.  Tris's blessing had served it's initial purpose: to try and put everyone off from her.  The clatter of dishes being passed back and forth soon absorbed the silence, and polite conversation began making it's way around.  

"How are the forges doing, Frostpine?"  

"I suspect this winter will be a bitter one indeed."  

"I saw the most marvelous loom-work when I was in town yesterday."   

"The oregano is blooming wonderfully right now.  Suspect it'll need harvesting soon."  

Tris had kept her head bowed throughout all of the meaningless dribble and had kept her movements to a minimum, in the hope of being forgotten.  When she reached for the sugar bowl, however, she did so at the same time as Briar, who was her juxtaposed companion, did.  Her soft, small hand grazed his large, coarse one, and he caught her hand within his.  

She felt tingles shoot through her body, followed by a light shiver.  Her breath caught in her throat, as she was seized with the urge to swallow and gasp at the same time.  She sharply looked up, only to see that his eyes were locked on her.  They seemed to smolder, with some sort of intricate fire that burned so hit that she doubted Frostpine would know how to handle it.  Under his gaze, she could feel her mantra of "I hate them" fading away as quickly as her heartbeats were speeding up.  

Briar, in a daring action that he wouldn't usually fathom to attempt, slowly glided his long fingers across the back of her hand, softly, softly, making gentle circles, only applying enough pressure to send more tingles, this time much stronger, coursing through her body.  

Tris ran her tongue over her now dry lips and closed her eyes.  _No, no, this has to stop.  I can't let this happen.  If I display any weakness, he could die.  She opened her eyes and curtly withdrew her hand.  _

"Go ahead and help yourself to the sugar.  I've lost my taste for it."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Throughout the meal Briar said little, instead opting for a position much like that of Tris's, listening with the occasional bob of the head.  He half-heartedly gave his account of how the oregano was blooming, all the while thinking about Tris.  She sat right next to him, but he couldn't muster up the courage to even turn to her and say something, anything.  

Maybe it was because she would be leaving tomorrow, and he had so many different things he wanted to say to her.  Maybe it was because this Tris that sat beside him still felt foreign to him, or maybe it was because he had had time to mull over his feelings for her, and he had come to the startling conclusion that he was in love with her.  

Yes, he, Briar Moss, street rat, pick pocket, plant mage, was deeply, madly, searingly in love with Trisana Chandler, merchant's daughter, teenage spinster, weather mage, and soon to be Goddess.  

He felt goofy just saying it in his head, and yet, to him, it felt right.  He'd always been affectionate towards Tris, even when they were just children.  He smiled as he remembered the jealousy that he had felt when Tris's cousin, Aymery, had come into town.  Seeing Tris favor another boy, even though he was her own kin, more than him had made him extremely jealous, as if it was an indicator to the feelings he would one day have for her.  

Now, with his feelings so clear to him, he was prohibited from telling them to Tris.  That was what was really eating him up inside.  If he told Tris how he felt, she would either not remember who he was, or worse yet, die during the Trials because of her attachment to him.  

_Why can't things just be simple?  He thought to himself.  __Why can't this be just like a love-myth?  I should just be able to grab her away and make my way off into the night.  After all, I am 17.  I shouldn't be afraid just to talk to her…no, I need an opportunity, that's all.  I'm not a love-coward, I just need the right opportunity to express to her…oh, to the Dark Lands with it all, I need some sugar in my porridge!  _

He reached for the sugar, but instead of grasping a tiny clay pot, he found himself clutching onto the most exquisite porcelain hand he had ever laid eyes on.  The feeling that that small amount of contact gave him was incredible.  It was as if he suddenly became aware of every nerve on his body, and they all wanted the same thing; Tris.  

He stared at her, hoping that his eyes would not betray the liquid passion that he had running through his veins.  Her fiery head turned, and her gray eyes met his, occasionally flashing lightening at him.  He could see the same want written in her eyes as well.  _Well, he said to himself, working up his courage, __I was waiting for an opportunity.  _

Almost trembling, he slowly moved his fingers, drawing soft, sensual circles on the back of Tris's hand, delighting in the small jerks of pleasure that he felt Tris's  hand go through.  Never once did he take his eyes off of his Coppercurls, giving each detail of her body, of her face, her eyes, her hair, such focus and attention, as if he was trying to lose himself in the way Tris's red hair mimicked the rising sun, rebirth, a new day, or as if he was trying to memorize it.  

He watched as Tris closed her eyes, and even before she opened them and spoke, he could sense a change over her.  She curtly withdrew her hand from his.  

"Go ahead and help yourself to the sugar.  I've lost my taste for it." 

Briar blinked, as a stab of pain and another more bitter, uglier emotion worked its way through him.  He grabbed the sugar tightly and brought it back to his plate.  Their entire encounter had lasted only a few seconds and had gone unnoticed to everyone else.  Briar almost laughed at that.  Perhaps the most important, most meaningful moment of his life so far, and it had gone unnoticed by everyone.  

He continued to pour a liberal amount of sugar into his porridge, never raising his eyes to meet anyone else's.  

"Everyone," Niko said in a clipped voice that commanded authority, "after breakfast is through, I'm going to have to ask you all to join Tris and me outside.  When the sun is at its zenith, which will occur in about five hours time, we'll need to perform the, errm, separation ritual.  We need to withdraw Tris from you all…completely."  

"As in how completely?" Sandry asked, narrowing her eyes a bit.  

"Do you recall when we separated all of your magicks from each other.  We will be doing something akin to that, but a bit more…draining."  

"Fine by me," Briar quipped, pushing his chair away from the table and wiping his hands on his pants.  "The sooner we can remove this…this parasite from our life, the better we will all be for it."

**Ouch, Briar.  Ouch.  Hmm…what'll happen next?  Drop a _REVIEW OR TWO, and perchance we'll find out.___**


	6. Default Chapter

**DISCLAIMER :**  I'm beginning to wonder, if I actually claimed that I owned CoM, would anyone believe me or care?  Would sirens start sounding if I lambasted Tamora Pierce and proclaimed myself the creator of CoM?  Would the Gestapo break into my house in the dark of night, drag me from my bed and set fire to all my personal belongings and effects?  I think I just scared myself…

You guys…I updated.  It's a long chapter…WITH FLUFF!!!!!!!!!  Seriously, I am as giddy as a school girl right now.  I think this may be one of the better chappies I've written in a while.  You guys are in for such a treat!!!!  *fiendish giggles*

Oh yeah, and **_PLEASE REVIEW!  _**Reviews are my drug of choice…and they encourage me to write more.

Without further adieu,

East of the Alter, Ch. VI

"There's no knowing if you come in front.

And there's no knowing if you come behind.

There's no knowing where you are at all.

All I know is you are in my mind."     

                                - Estonian Folk Song

Turbulent, bittersweet emotions swept through Tris as the last of the venomous words had left Briar's mouth.  To call what transpired within her in those next few moments "emotions" is not entirely accurate nor is it doing justice to what Trisana actually felt.  She had had emotions before; happy, sad, angry, calm, and was quite familiar with how they each felt in turn, this point being spoken to prove that she did indeed have an extensive background on what to classify emotions on.  

The feelings that Briar's comment elicited from her had no precedent, and can only be truly appreciated by those who have had near death experiences, where their final destinations were to be the Dark Lands.  

It was as if Tris could feel her lifeblood suddenly stop flowing in her veins, and she ceased to be living or dead, just some hollowed out empty shell (with the perfect acoustics to echo his statement back and forth in) that is waiting for the subtle fate of the wind to determine her next movements.  She felt her face trying to contort in pain, but only meticulous timing prevented that from happening.  

_Be calm, Tris, calm down.  He has to do this.  It's for the best, after all, you should be doing the same thing_.  Another softer, more timid voice piped up, bringing into light what Tris would rather not contemplate_.  But you're just doing it as an act.  He…he really means it.  He really hates you.  _She could feel hot salt misting up her hard, uncaring eyes.  

She stood as abruptly as Briar had a moment before, unable to bear sitting at the table any longer, unwilling to let any of them see that her hardened exterior had a chink in it.  

"Exactly," Tris countered, letting her voice resonate loudly with a steely, dangerous edge to it, but far sharper than any knife Gorse kept in his kitchens, "you will all be better once you've fished this-" she paused to give her next word more effect, "parasite out of your system.  This hideously cruel, ill-tempered, disgustingly ugly mean-spirited parasite that is sick and tired of living under false pretenses."  

Her voice was becoming more frenzied as she spit out each word with pure malevolence, but on the inside she was worried.  She couldn't tell how much of this she was just making up and how much of it was true_.  Just keep going, she urged herself.  __You must hurt them to save them…or am I just hurting them because they've hurt me?   _

"What pretenses?" Briar asked in a dangerously low voice, as all the others still sat around the table, too shocked to comment.  

"What pretenses?  This putrid Parasite is sick of pretending that she enjoys being stuck in this run-down version of the Dark Lands.  Pretending that her flesh doesn't crawl at the thought of being the object of some petty boy's" her eyes settled dangerously on Briar's, "silly crush.  Pretending she doesn't notice the sideways smirks and knowing glances you all give each other whenever I stroll by, as if you have any right to superiority over me.  Tired of pretending as if I enjoy any of all of you all's company, no, tired of pretending as if I can tolerate even being in the same room with any of you.  Gods, the mere sight of you people is enough to churn my stomach five times over.  

"I can't stand being this house's novelty fat girl - after all, if one of the 'all powerful quartet' wasn't flawed in some way, why, we just don't know what we to do, would do?  Who would we blame all of out troubles and misdeeds on?"  

She spun quickly on her heels, her uncaring eyes focusing on Sandry.  Specks of lightening began flickering in them with more frequency.

  "Surely not the little lost princess, with such a pure heart and loving disposition that any real talent and brains she once might have possessed have now been glossed over with the clichés of the weaker sex.  She's so pristine and perfect, and shall make a wonderful trophy for some rich, boorish man fifty years her senior."

Sandry's mouth flew open in hurt, but she had no time for protestations, because Tris's fury had moved on.  Tris's words dripped with sarcasm and venom, but her inner voice was scared and worn, as if it were on the verge of tears.  She put up a mental wall to block it, to make sure it did not leak through, and prayed that no one would try to reach her magickally, fearing that her resolve would break down and she would burst out into tears.

  "And of course not our token Trader, who's such a special find in these parts.  Hard to come by a good black girl this time of year, they're all down south with the slavers.  Good thing we got one, though, can show her off in an exhibit, maybe make a farthing or two."

Rage flashed in Daja's eyes as a scowl of hatred crossed her face. 

With each word Tris spoke, her past wrongs were revisited, past torments remembered, and her anger grew and became real, and even her physical stature seemed to loom above everyone.  At last Tris turned, full circle, to face Briar, who stood head on to meet whatever she might have to say.  She threw her hands up in disgust, and her eyes seemed to be back into their solid lightening phase.  

"And no, we cannot lay blame on our pretty boy 'diamond in the rough' weed mage.  We have to be nice to him, because he" she carefully enunciated her words, "Is Street Trash, and will never be anything more.  We have to overlook his idiocy, bad manners, rudeness, and edges that are as rough as those belonging to an ass…why?  Because his whore of a mother had a little too much fun and then a brat to pack, and died a penniless and worthless tramp, leaving her illegitimate burden on us!"  

Briar let out a strangled yell. Tris had struck a deep running nerve in him, and his instincts were brought forth: he attacked. He lunged forward with animalistic rage, not sure of what exactly he was doing, only knowing that he must attack.  There was an enormous sound of a thunderclap and a bright flash of orange light.  It cleared as instantly as it had come, but Briar was now lying on his back on the floor with Tris towering over him.  Her hair, hair that Briar had once affectionately reckoned something akin to a fiery phoenix had changed.  A huge ball of flames, roughly the same size and shape of Tris's hair, licked her scalp and danced around her head, creating a sinister dance.  Her hollow, piercing lightening eyes stared down at him.  They seemed to be…lacking something.  He inched back, propping himself on his elbows, his eyes locked with her emptiness.

  Her voice was now like that of rising flood water, creeping upon you covertly and quietly but bringing dangers with it.  

"And so you used me-**used me-as the Circle's scapegoat.  The revolting girl covered in layers of ugliness and fat, with a heart that's shriveled and black, if she had one in the first place.  This nasty creature with no heart, who is an orphan not because her parents died, but because she was deemed to obscene to belong to a family.  A twisted, mutilated creature that deserved no love.  A freak among freaks.  I do not belong here.  I never did.  I am only here because I am not seen as human, first by my family, and now by every one of you.  I am an easy out for problems, the necessary blemish on an otherwise perfect face.  So yes, your lives and my excuse for one will be all the much better once I am cut out of them."**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Her words hung in the air much like how the stench of blood hangs over the ground where a particularly gory and unnecessary battle took place.  She could feel the weight of them, the overtones of her malediction, settling in the room.  Her harsh words settled onto her skin, leaving it clammy and damp.  

Something that Tris had once read in a book came to her at that moment.  It had been the memoirs of a Zoroastrian philosopher.  "The words one speaks never truly die; they simply seek out new paths to be heard on."  That passage had confused her when she had read it at the tender age of seven, but now, standing amidst the havoc that her voice had created, she understood.  

The curses she  had spouted floated around her, searching for the permanent lodgings that only wounded hearts can provide…and finding those in abundance.   

She slowly turned on her wooden heel once more, to give her breakfasting companions a final survey.  She was met with looks of fury, hurt, and puzzlement, and she couldn't help but conjure up the picture of how a beaten dog looks-for surely, there were strong resemblance between the scene before her and the distant memories of her cousin's dog, Flockear, after a few swift kicks.  

Sandry stared up at Tris, hot tears forming in her eyes as she looked upon the fiery statue that had stolen her friend away from  her.  "T-Tris…" she managed to choke out before a sob managed to squirm its way out of her heart and escape out he throat.  

She ran from the table, knocking her chair back as she did so, and headed for the door.  

A cringe traveled through Tris's body as she impassively watched Sandry flee, listening to her racking sobs as she ran past the garden and into the woodsy field.  

"I should…go make sure Sandrilene is all right," Lark said quietly, keeping her head lowered and focusing on the ground as she gently stood, pushing her chair in with unsteady hands.  

"I'll come along," chorused in the voices of Frostpine and Daja, although both said with different emotions behind it.  Frostpine's voice was timid and reserved, but Daja's was brimmed with hatred and spite.  

The three made their way out of the cottage, and Tris watched them from the corner of her flashing eyes as they made their way down the trodden path.  Niko and Rosethorn still sat at the table, and Briar remained in his supine position.  

"Someone help the whoreson up.  I'm going out.  I'll return in time for the separating."  The terse words escaped from Tris's mouth as she clicked her heels and moved towards the door.  She could feel her resolve weakening.  _I must get out of here, I must get out of here…I can't let them see me cry, I can't…  _She felt a cold dribble of something hit her ankle as she made her final step towards the door.  

Looking down, she recognized what she had felt, and now felt a single tear move down her cheek, but she quickly hid it so no one could see it.  Spit.  It was spit on her ankle, loaded with so much venom that it seemed to burn her flesh.  

Instead of trying to counter Tris's lambaste with diatribe of his own, Briar had done the one thing that he knew would hurt her the most.  Briar had spat at her as she had walked past.  

As Tris felt the salty tear slowly cascade down her round face, she was drawn back into her memories.  Memories of living with family member after family member who, upon seeing her, would spit in her face, following the Merchant custom that dictated that whenever a faulty deal was made, when you obviously had been greatly tricked or cheated into getting the worst deal possible, such a horrible deal that it could bring shame upon your house, you should immediately spit on the object you had obligatorily gained.  "Do not look a gift horse in the mouth/ but spat your rheum when the ass is lame," was the concise way of saying it.  "Baptize the bastard with a mark that shows its uncleanness," as her Aunt Truselle had put it. 

Tris had told Briar of her family's custom of doing this to her, of how, when she was small and living with her Uncle Balthazar, her tiny cousins Artur and Mikanda, along with a dozen of their friends, had cornered her in their family's orchard, only to spit on her and taunt her for hours, until finally a weeping Tris had fallen limp and fainted from exhaustion.  He knew of all this, she had trusted him with all of this, and what  had he done?  He'd hurt her more than any of the cruel jestings of Artur and Mikanda ever could.  

_Must get out…almost there._  She put her hand upon the door and pulled it open.  She stood in the doorway, facing the familiar outdoor surroundings of Discipline when a voice stopped her.  

"Trisana," Niko asked in a quiet, serious voice, "do you truly mean what you just said?  Or did you say it because of…of your condition?"  

Trisana knew Niko well, and was well acquainted with the different tactics he used to mask his voice.  Her face crumpled upon hearing his voice now, for to her, it reeked with anguish.  

She took a staggering gasp of air and felt her shoulders heave…her sobs were attempting to break free…she looked up at the sky, her Mother, her Sister, and asked for strength.  

"I-" she paused to take a breath.  Her voice had been shakier and betrayed her fragile state more than she had thought.  She tried to regain herself, but found that it was hopeless.  The strength of the sky had abandoned her, and left her for what she was-a scared, little girl.  "I don't know, Niko," she whispered, her cries of pain slowly leaking through.  She swallowed, but found her throat to be full of lumps.  "I don't know…I don't know anything, anymore."  

She ran.  That is the only thing that she did know-run.  Run, run for all that you have, for all that you have lost.  Let the rhythm of your pounding feet against the earth be your funeral dirge.  Let your gasping breathes be your confidants on your journey through pain.  Run until there is nothing left of you, only wisps of wind that carry traces of your suffering, and whisper it to all who will listen.  

And that is what she did.  

Past the garden, through the woodsy earth, over the sweet-grass hills, ignoring the sharp pains coming from her aching lungs.  _Run away, run away, a voice in her head taunted her. __ Always on the move, Trisana.  Never stopping.  _

She ran up a dirt clearing, a ways away from Discipline, that led to the old stone well where she had spent many hours sitting, admiring the sky from her high, isolated viewpoint.  Her legs finally gave out, her feet tripping over one another while she furiously tried to continue pumping them.  She fell into the dirt in a tangled mass of limbs, feeling the cool, soft brown skin of the earth envelope her face and her clothes.  She clawed the dirt, grabbing masses of it within her hands only to fling them away, shrieking all the while.  

She was not human.  She was a mass writhing in pain. 

Only the feeling of the dirt beneath her nails, the wind hitting her back, her knees bruising as they smashed into the ground again and again, kept her tied down to reality.  Her shrieks flew from the high outlook, reverberated off of the hills and woods below.  Her shrieks were raw, and caused the fine hairs on the flesh of those miles around to rise without their knowing why.  Somewhere down below here, Sandry, Lark, Frostpine and Daja heard her, and it remains a dispute to this day of whether it was the cry of a banshee or some mournful mother cat they heard that day.  The thought that Tris, or that a human, could be making those noises was unfathomable.  

And so that was how Tris remained, until finally her fatigued body could take no more shrieking and thrashing about.  

Then she became still and silent.

 The only thing that moved was the water on a constant journey as it steadily trickled down from her eyes.  Her hair and eyes had gradually returned to their normal states, unbeknownst to Tris.  She wasn't aware of anything, only the emptiness that had taken hold of her.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Briar got up and dusted his shirt off.  His anger that he had been so sure of a moment ago was quickly, perhaps not dissipating, but diminishing.  When Tris had answered Niko's question, Briar had heard the hitch in her voice, and all that it betrayed.  As he looked up at her, he saw through her hard exterior and was allowed a glimpse at the ongoing battle within her. 

She was a girl torn.  Afraid.  Unsure.  

She was still Tris.  

He straightened his shirt and looked to Niko and Rosethorn.  Niko gently rubbed his temples as Rosethorn sat unmoving, her lips pursed so tightly that they had turned white.  "Have I done what is best for her?"  Niko asked, perhaps to himself since it was whispered so quietly.  He looked up at Briar with eyes frantic and searching.  "Have I?  Have I turned her into…into this?"  

He looked away, covering his face with his hands.  

Briar was taken aback.  He had never seen a sign of any emotion play across Niko, and now this man-Briar's savior-was on the verge of tears.  If a man as strong as Niko was about to break down, what would Tris be going through right now?  His resolve was made.  

"I'm going out," he said, moving towards the door.  

"Briar," Rosethorn's voice called out, halting him.  Their eyes met, and an unspoken agreement passed between the two.  "Go," Rosethorn softly commanded.  "Go."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He had searched for her for nearly forty minutes.  Every place that he could recall her ever frequenting had been checked and rechecked.  Mages out strolling had had clipped queries shouted to them as Briar ran past.  

"Have you seen a young mage-a little short, chubby, with fiery hair?"  

"Not today, not today."  

He took pause and leaned against a tree, trying to catch his breath.  He looked up, letting the warm sunlight that had filtered through the branches hit his face.  _Sky, give me strength, he asked silently, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply.  Even the sky reminded him of her.  How could he not associate Tris with the sky, or anything that came from it?  If she died…if she died, how would he ever be able to live, when even the sky would be a testament to his loss?  _

"The sky…" he whispered to himself.  She had probably gone someplace where she could be close to the sky.  But where…he had already checked all of her usual places to be near the sky and meditate…all except… "The well."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tris dragged herself to a sitting position, using the well as leverage.  She couldn't remember if she had fallen asleep or had simply lain on the ground.   Her entire body felt a tired weakness that she had never felt in her entire life, not even when she had tried to stop the waves from coming in.  Her throat felt hoarse from her sobbing, her eyes and lips felt puffy, and she could feel the dried blood that coated her cracked and dirtied fingernails.  She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders a bit.  

"I was beginning to wonder when you were going to come to," a voice called out from behind her, coming closer to her. 

Tris flinched slightly upon hearing it, but she did not answer him.  

Briar stood and slowly made his way towards Tris.  He had arrived upon her a few minutes ago, finding her in a disheveled state and sound asleep.  He had knelt over her and checked to see if she was all right, and then quietly resigned himself to sitting at the base of a bush behind her, quietly observing her.  

He now stood only a few feet behind her, a feeling of nervousness encroaching upon him.  "Tris-" he began, but stopped.  He was at a loss for words.  

"G-go away, Briar."

Tris could feel him behind her, feel his eyes searing into the back of her head.  She felt him shift his weight, and felt the dirt move as he took a seat on the left side of her.  She leaned away from him, letting her right side rest against the well.  

"Tris," he tried once more, placing a hand on her shoulder.  

Her lips twitched, but no sound came out.  She lifted a hand to rub some dirt off of her face, still not looking at him.  

His hand left his side and caught her own, slowly turning her face to look at his.  Her eyes were wide and watery, and looked lost.  Her lips trembled slightly.  "Oh Coppercurls," he sighed, gathering her into an embrace.  

She fell against him and clung to him, letting soft sobs escape from her.  Briar moved himself closer to her, cradling his best friend in his arms, running his fingers through her matted and tangled hair.  "It's all right, Coppercurls, it'll be all right," he crooned softly to her, gently rocking her back and forth as she continued to cling to him.  If the feeling of the dirt beneath her nails, the wind hitting her back, her knees bruising as they smashed into the ground again and again, had kept her tied down to reality before, it had now been replaced by Briar.  The feeling of his arms encircling her.  The scent that lingered on his clothes as Tris buried her face in his chest.  The rhythmic stroking of his hands, on her hair, on her back.  The sound of his voice, how it felt like the gentlest of caresses, taking on tones she never knew it could posses.  

"We'll get through this, Coppercurls.  We've been through worse."  Tris let out a choked giggle and sniffed.  

"Like what?" she asked, looking up at him.  

His eyes met hers, and his hands moved to gently cradle her face.  She met his gaze, letting all the uncertainty, fear, and passion that she saw in his eyes reflect back into hers.  He softly  lowered his head to hers, drawing her face nearer to his.  

Their lips met, gingerly at first, delicately moving against the other.  Briar could taste the fresh salt from her tears, and Tris could taste a slight trace of oregano.  With each passing moment, their kiss grew in intensity.  It soon became a journey of discovery for the two of them.  Briar had had some experience with girls before, after all, he was a teenage boy, but he had never wanted to kiss someone so much.  It was as if he was yearning for something, and all that he knew was that it lied somewhere within Tris.  

He snaked one of his arms around her neck, letting the other move down and draw her middle closer to him.  Tris's hands began moving around his back, as if searching for something. They found what they were looking for: one moved up to run through his hair as the other gently played with the back of his neck.  

Briar's mouth worked against Tris, his tongue outlined the shape of her mouth.  He could feel a shiver run through Tris's body at that, and she meekly opened her mouth for him.  She then did something that caught Briar totally offguard-he felt a sweet sliver of her tongue hesitantly make its way into his mouth, making tortuously wonderful circles within his mouth.  He groaned as his lips sought out as if to bruise hers, determined as he was to show her that her boldness was greatly appreciated.  

After gods knows how long, Tris finally broke off the kiss when she felt a bittersweet agony return to  her, felt her rush of tears coming back.  

"Briar, Briar," she whispered, pulling back as Briar worked his way down her neck, only to suckle on a spot behind her earlobe.  "Briar, we have to stop."  

She reached down and pulled his face away from her.  Her lips, which were once only red from crying, were now doubly red from being kissed.  Torment played across her face.  "We can't do this.  If we're still attached to each other by the time I leave…"  

"No, Coppercurls, no," Briar pleaded, finally letting the torrent of emotions that he had damned up over the past few days break free.  "You can't go, I need you," his voice became hoarse and choked as his eyes began to wet.  "I need you. I'll die without you, Coppercurls.  You're my best friend, I'll-"  

"Shh," Tris interjected while diminutive sobs came from Briar.  She herself was gently sobbing also.  She tried to smile.  

"Be still, my little Thief Boy.  I'll come back for you.  You know I will."  

"No, stay…please stay.  I'll do anything, just don't leave me."  

Tears flooded Tris's cheeks as Briar desperately tried to grab hold of her, as if by holding onto her now she would be unable to leave him.  "I'll never leave you, Briar," she whispered, clutching him with equal fervor.  "I will never leave you.  I'll always be with you."  

Briar looked up at her, memorizing the way she looked right then.  Tear stained cheeks, smeared dirt, puffy lips.  She was beautiful.  Their lips met once more, but now both were much more desperate, their movements more passionate and frantic, both searching for something…something that would keep them together  through the trials and tribulations to come.  

"I love you, Thief Boy," Tris whispered as her hands slid his shirt up above his head, grazing his heated chest.  

"I love you, too, Coppercurls."        

Eeeeeee!  Oh goodness…please **_REVIEW_** or drop me a line at magdalena134@hotmail.com .


	7. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER : Go to chapters I, II, III, IV, V and VI if still confused.  If you are still confused, I suggest going to your local Fite Uhgehnst Ill-lit-err-uh-see Center.  

AUTHOR'S NOTE : Wow, I just want to give a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed.  You guys are awesome and truly made and motivated me day.  If you ever come to good ole' KC, I'd be more than happy to shake your hand…or maybe not.  You could all be fifty year old balding child pornographers who only go to legit sites every now and then to throw off the FBI for all I know.  Seriously, though, thanks a bunch.  And if you leave more after this chapter, you might not have to wait the obscene amount of time it took me to write this chapter to get the next one!  

Also, I read _Shatterglass a while back.  Oh sweet Brigit, it was good.  If you're a Tris shipper, go and get it.  If you have no money, consult your local lending library!_

And now, as sure as the U.S. government has violated the Geneva Convention codes concerning prisoners of war at Camp X-Ray, here it is!

**East of the Alter**

by Anyanka

Ch. VII

_" 'Lover! Lover!' cried for the loverless maiden_

_'Suitor! Suitor!' cried for the bed that she laid in_

_And the last song cried out forever and ever._

_'Mother, Mother, I swim the waters of Rapture!' "_

- Finnish Epic

There are few things in the world that are certainties, and it is best to learn that at an age when the caul is still fresh on the mind rather than dismissing it with a shake of the head and, in your later years, plunging headstrong into the shimmering, blue depths of naiveté that no one could pull you out from before lungs were forced to take in and choke on the damning simplicities that have replaced the air.  However, few are seldom to accept this truth and enter into their youths as whimsical creatures who openly show their hearts, their souls to passerbys, expecting nothing wicked to result from it.  It is for certain, one impetuous youth might say, that this lass is my true love.  It is certain, another might quip amongst daydreaming companions, that truth is powerful, omnipotently so.  That love conquers all, that everything happens for a reason, that good triumphs over evil. 'Naiveté, naiveté, naiveté' the world (along with the humble scribe before you) calls in raspier tones.  

The only certainty of which I am presently aware of is this: the sun will rise in the east and continue movement until it finally settles in the west.  Many would do well to learn this by heart, for many a lives can change in one swift and simple course of this certain certainty.  The sun will always rise and continue movement, but those who had failed to take this certainty into account had not noticed, and they now found that precious hours had fled from them like vermin from the light, and the encroachment of time spelled a future uncertain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Hub shone with a peculiarly bright glisten as Niko's eyes impatiently darted back and forth, letting his eyes rest upon it for a moment only to have the building anxieties within him demand recognition, which he gave to it by tearing his eyes away and scanning the pathways for any sign of Tris or Briar.  _It's nearly two_, he thought to himself, hands fiddling with the velvet trim of his overrobe_.  I hope that Tris hasn't gotten herself lost, no knowing how to get around…but Briar should be here.  I will thoroughly throttle that boy's neck if he's not here in a Lakik minute.  _

Niko stood in the yard of Discipline, forming a loose circle with Sandry, Daja, and their teachers.  Sandry and Daja shot worried looks at each other.  _~They should be here by now, shouldn't they?~ Sandry's magickal voice asked Daja.  _

Sandry's eyes were still puffy and pink from the crying she had only finished a few hours earlier.  After Tris's lambasting at the breakfast table, she had fled the cottage and ran to the loom houses only to curl up on rough hemp mats in the corner, closing her eyes and fervently listening to the constant thumping of the looms in the rooms below her, pretending that the sound wasn't that of looms but of the heartbeats of her long dead mother as she held her, with warm, full arms, close to her chest and stroked her hair while whispering soothing words.  

Daja leaned against the wooden frame of the covered supply cart that Niko had brought with him for the ritual, pausing to suck at a piece of meat caught between her teeth before she answered her friend.  _My ****__friend, she thought to herself, looking at Sandry who patiently waited for an answer.  __Not some bigot who's been dancing around me with a mask on all these years.  She took a deep breath through flared nostrils to try and calm herself down.  Even though she had not yet voiced them, she could feel the words rising from the base of  her spine and beginning to swell within her throat.  _I hate her_.  _

~_Yes, I suppose, although I doubt they're together.  Briar was furious at her (even more than me_, she added to herself), so who knows, maybe he's killed her and is trying to find a place for the body.~  __

_~Daja!~_ Sandry reprimanded her in a surprised tone, _~don't ever say such things, they could come true.  But you're right, they probably aren't with each other.  Briar's probably off skulking and Tris is…well, she's probably off skulking, too.~ _

"There!" Niko cried in a manner that still managed to show his good breeding.  He turned precisely on the heel and headed towards the redheaded figure that had just emerged from the woods.  Tris held her skirts with both hands as she slightly panted, her face red from the exhaustion of her rapid hike back to Discipline.  She met Niko and turned her face up to his.  

"You're almost late," he told her in an impassive tone.  

"Almost.  No need to spend a minute longer with the lot of you, I figured."  

"Indeed," was all Niko replied as he turned from her, but not before he beckoned her to follow him.  "You wouldn't by chance," he asked over his shoulder as he resumed his former position, "know what's become of young Briar?  He, too, is nowhere to be found."  

_"This never happened.  It has to be that way.  When we go back, none of this ever happened.  It was a fluke.  You must pretend that you haven't seen me all day, and I the same with you.  Please, it must be so, it's for your, it for everyone's own good.  If they ask anything, anything at all, you must betray me with your words, for I will do the same with you." _

_"But will that make it easier for me to betray you with my heart?"_

Tris blinked with a look of bafflement upon her face.  "You mean that swelling toad at breakfast earlier today?  Perhaps he's done us all a favor and found his way underneath the wheels of a passing cart," she remarked, looking up and frowning at the sun.  It had moved much more quickly today, she supposed.  

"Then perhaps you could join him there," Daja scathingly replied through clenched teeth.  One hand clenched her staff tighter, preparing for an attack, an instinct she had carried around with her since childhood.  

Tris refused to take her eyes off the sun, letting the pure sunlight burn away the pain she felt at hearing Daja's words instead of letting tears wash them away.  

Seeing that Tris was not going to respond, Daja sighed and turned her attentions back to the piece of caught meat.  It was almost loose, she could feel it.  

"I'm here," a gruff voice called out from a bend on the path that led to Gorse's kitchen.  

_"But how am I supposed to act?  I don't know if I can do it." _

_ "You can and you will.  Gods, do you think this is going to be easy for me either?  Just…just do your best.  We have to do our best, or else…or else I don't know."_   

Briar looked as he often did, annoyed at having to be anywhere where he was supposed to.  He walked the few remaining feet of the path before he joined them.  

"Excellent.  We have just enough time,"  Niko said in a clipped way, motioning Daja to stand aside as he rummaged through the cart.  "Lark, Rosethorn, Frostpine, if you would stand at your appointed spots with your younger counterparts," he politely commanded as he pulled out several large, black candles.  

_Banishment colors_, Tris thought to herself, attempting to be stoic.  She noticed that the wax had carefully been etched with markings to represent The Void, a measure done to add extra potency to banishing spells.  

"Come here, Sandry," Lark gently called as she took her position in the west, gesturing for Sandry to stand in front of her.  Sandry was obedient, as were Briar and Daja.  Soon Daja and Frostpine stood in the south with Rosethorn and Briar standing in the north.  The east looked eerily empty.  

Niko finished unloading the contents of the wagon and placed them in the center of the circle.  

"Trisana, if you would be so kind as to take the place in the east.  I would join you, but I will be performing the ritual."  

Trisana jerked her head in a crude nod and took her place in the east.  She felt a slight surge, as did all the other, as the circle was completed.  _Completed only to be broken_, she mused.  

Niko uncorked a glass bottle the shade of the midnight sky and passed it to Rosethorn.  "Please, everyone, begin meditating.  Once you are calm, take a draught from this bottle and pass it sunwise.  After you've finished that, keep your eyes closed and I'll anoint you."  Heads were nodded as eyes drifted closed.  

While they meditated, Niko continued to propel the ritual.  Pulling out an athame, he paused to consecrate it and give it reverence.  The double-edged ritual knife glinted in the sun as Niko quietly chanted over it.  Tris could sense what he was doing and she felt a grim shudder make its way through her body.  

The athame represented the two sides of magick, the dark and the light.  By itself, magick is neutral, but with human interference it can take any shape or side.  The athame, if she remembered correctly and she was sure that she did, represented the neutrality, but the incantations that Niko mumbled over it called upon it, beseeched it to forget its double nature and think of only its negative nature.  _He wants it to be only dark magick so that it will seek out and crave light magick so it can be neutral again_, she realized.  _It's going to seek out and take my magick away from them_.  

Tris was distracted by the bottle that was handed to her and she took a swig.  The bitter liquid burned at her throat and attempted to make its way back up, but she held it down.  She set the bottle down on the dry earth and waited, attempting to resume her meditation.  

Niko took the sharp tip of the blade and nicked his wrist, letting blood slowly drip from it.  Taking the athame in the bleeding  hand, he held it high in the air and spun it in a sunwise circle.  Tris felt something wet and war hit her face.  

Blood.  

She cringed deep within herself.  Blood still made her woozy, even though she had been forced on several occasion to spill her own to strengthen her spells.  _He did say he was going to anoint us, the more practical side of her said.  She sank back into meditation and tried to disregard the sensation of the blood languidly running down her face.  _

"Now," Niko's voice quietly called, still holding the athame in his hand, "please take a moment to think about Tris.  Think about her and her magick.  Gather up those memories, the power, and coil it into…into a thread perhaps, or an iron rod or a fresh shoot.  Tris, you do the same except think about your past few days here at Discipline and any magick that you find within you that feels like it's not totally yours.  Now, everyone, send them down into the ground, only about four feet, though.  I'll give you all a few minutes."  

_I wonder what they're sending down there_, Tris pondered as she dutifully searched her mind, grabbing for her memories of her bro-of Briar and Sandry and Daja. _ It's best that I don't know.  It's best that way, it's best_.  

She continued accumulating everything she could think of, and then formed them all into a tight lightening bolt and plunged it into the ground below her.  In the meanwhile, Niko had lit the black candles and placed them at the foot of each teenager, along with a sprinkling of herbs and essential oils.  He also laid at their feet a foot long white cord, a woven square of cotton, and a tin basket of about two feet in height and one foot in width.  The cords and squares would serve a magickal purpose while the baskets would be far more pragmatic and practical.  Tris, however, only received the tin basket.  

All things were set.  

Still gripping the athame, he finally followed his own orders and began to pull memories of Tris away from him.  He found that he was far more emotional then he thought he would be, and as his hand gripped the cold steel hilt his mind loosened its grip on the warmth of Tris's memory.  _If I had had a child_.  The thought came from nowhere and yet it was there, within himself.  _If I had had a child_…  Niko shook his head bitterly and sent Trisana into the earth into he form of a ray of light.  

All the others already had sent down their respective objects and were awaiting further instruction.  Hair on all arms was standing on edge, and a queasiness swept over every stomach.  

"Everyone but Tris take the square of cloth at your feet into your hands.  Focus on it and consider it an empty pallet that needs to be filled with only you.  Pour yourself, your magick into the cloth for safe keeping and to distinctly keep you separate.  Even as the flesh of human bodies shall decay and melt into the body of the Earth's, your magicks shall never blend again with this godhead, and this square will see to that." His last sentence was spoken with a tone of formality, suggesting that the words carried with them a magickal weight that should be revered and heeded.  

Soon each square glowed a pale color, be it green, blue or red, and beads of sweat had begun to form on everyone's brow.  Everyone, that is, but Tris, who remained in her meditative state.  

"Your hand," Niko gently whispered near her ear.  She jumped, not knowing that he had gotten that close to her.  

"Give me your hand.  I'm going to have to cut it."  

Tris's eyes nearly shot open with surprise.  "What?" she asked him quietly, trying not to disturb the others.  "You're going to cut me?  I can do it myself, I'm not afraid of the pain."  

"No, I must be the one to make the cut."  

"But you said that if a mage ever used anyone else's blood in a spell-" 

"Yes, I did.  The repercussions for such an act are great, however…however you are not a mage.  You are not human, and therefore I shall not be judged in my actions." He took a pause.  "The ritual calls for this…for your blood to be stolen from you, the ultimate act of hate."  

With that, he stiffly reached down and jerked her hand up.  For a brief moment Tris felt a wincing pain, and then it was as if fire flowed from her hands.  She stuffed her uncut hand in her mouth to keep her from crying out.  

"Here," Niko commanded, "cup your hand like this, so that it fills with your blood.  Once and only when it is full throw it into the air."  

Niko turned from her and stood in the center of the circle once more.  "And as the seeds of turmoil grew within the Earth, the Sun looked down in anger and sought an answer-"  

The heat in Tris's hand was becoming unbearable and she began to feel woozy.  It was a dis-easing feeling, knowing that you were bleeding so much that you could fill your own hand in a moment's time.  

"-and found it within itself.  To cleanse the Earth, to save the Earth, it sent down itself in a rain of fire-"  

She could hold it no longer.  Her hand was burning off, flesh melting away to leave exposed tendons and nerves.  With a muffled yelp, she threw her hand into the air, feeling the wind pick up her blood, ripping it from her skin, only to send it back down as burning rain.  

"-to save what it could by destroying it." 

The blood spattered the faces of those in the circle, and shocked cries of pain met the ears of those in the circle.  It was as if her blood ate away at their skin.  _Like I'm attacking them, Tris thought.  _

Niko, his own skin dotted with tiny burns quickly called out the next instructions.  "And so you see she is killing you, torturing you.  You must banish this godhead from your life, and quickly!  Take the cord at your feet and make three knots.  Curse her name in the first.  Damn her in the second.  Banish her in the third.  Remember, she is the one causing you this writhing pain!"  

He quickly reached for his own cord and furiously began tying knots.  

With each knot tied, it was as if a sharp blow was delivered to Tris's stomach.  She hunched over and felt the wind leave her body.  She gasped for breath, but none came, only more blows.  She doubled over and fell to the ground, clawing at her throat, trying to force air to enter her body while she was racked with phantom pains.  

She could hear their voices in her head amidst her airless haze of pain.  _"I hate you, Tris," Daja spat.  "_I damn you, Tris,"_ Lark screamed.  __"I banish you forever, Trisana Chandler," Briar's voice bellowed inside of head.  _

_No_, Tris thought_.  No, don't let them-_ her thoughts faded away as her body's craving for oxygen began to overpower her senses.  Her hands began to weakly flail around her throat, now no longer making scratches but instead smearing around the blood she had drawn.  

_I'm going to die.  I'm going to die because of them, because of what they're doing to me_.  Her body convulsed as a spasm made her legs and arms contort in unnatural ways as her fresh wounds continued to bleed.  _I hate them.  I hate them.  I HATE them_!  

Everything stopped.  No sound, no sight, no pain.  

The Void.  

"As the sun destroyed, so mote it be," clamored Niko, plunging the athame into the earth beneath him.  Instantaneously, the darkmagicked blade found the lightmagicked powers that everyone had put into the earth, and drew them to it with such force that a tremor passed through the earth and threw everyone off their feet.  

And so Trisana was separated.  

Everyone reached for the tin baskets, now understanding what they were for, and wretched in them.  

Tris remained still, glazed eyes staring up into the sky.  An uncanny smile cracked the dried blood on her face.   She was finally going to see Mother.  

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, **_REVIEW!!!!  _As always, you can reach me at magdalena134@hotmail.com .   Also, because of stinginess, I do not subscribe to the "author alert" system.  If you would, however, like to receive an email warning you when my next haphazard update is going to occur, just email me with the request.  Peace out. **


	8. Author's Note

Author's Note.

Hey guys.  So yes, I suppose it has been a while.  ::hangs head in shame and shuffles her feet::  For that, I apologize.  I know how much it sucks when you just want to read the next flippin' chapter, and it never seems to come.  

Oh, but it shall come.

I'm currently working on the next chapter of EotA.  Hopefully, it will be up and ready to be read by Thanksgiving.  _Hopefully_.

Thank you all so much for your patience and support.

Always,

Anyanka


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